


Infinite, Unbroken, Forever...

by Madlock



Series: The O'Connor Chronicles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Female Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery), LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Queer Themes, Slow Burn, Video Game: Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 49
Words: 117,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27811564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madlock/pseuds/Madlock
Summary: The year is 1997, Clara O'Connor returns to England after many years. It has been six years since Clara and the gang  graduated from Hogwarts. This story will flip between present day (1997) and flashbacks which chronicle what she (and her friends) have been up to for the last six years.
Relationships: Player Character/Merula Snyde, Skye Parkin & Original Female Character(s), Skye Parkin & Player Character, Skye Parkin/Player Character
Series: The O'Connor Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034922
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67





	1. The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for rejoining the story. Honestly, writing this has been so fun and much needed in this time. Admittedly I have no idea where this is going to go because I love the characters so much but I am glad you're here for the ride. So please enjoy, please give feedback, and please stay safe out there!

**Chapter 1: The Return  
** July 30th, 1997  
_Hogsmeade Village, Scotland_ _  
_  
POP 

The villagers of Hogsmeade were unaccustomed to foreign visitors, so the sudden appearance of a well-dressed witch in the middle of road was an immediate cause for concern. Ever since the tragic death of Albus Dumbledore, Lord Voldemort’s followers had begun to make their appearance known, indicating that something sinister was brewing. The witch took note of this immediately; she saw eyes peeking through closed blinds and the few people who were outside moved hurriedly in the opposite direction or shifted to avoid walking past her.  
  
_Do I look that scary?_ The witch chuckled to herself, before taking the familiar path to the High Street. While she walked she noticed the once picturesque cottages and buildings had lost some of their luster; many of the buildings were boarded up and the usually well kept lawns were overgrown and evidently hadn’t been tended to in a while.  
  
She continued her walk down the High Street, passing by the warmth of the Three Broomsticks, making a mental note to pop in before she left. She walked past Zonko’s and wondered if Bilton Blimes was still working there, though the state of the shop looked as though no one was at all. She laughed silently to herself as she passed Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop, thinking about the disastrous Valentine’s Day date she had there.  
  
She kept moving along the path, finally arriving at her destination, the Hog’s Head Inn.  
  
She opened the door quietly, so as to not draw too much attention to herself. Fortunately, one of the things she loved about the Hogs Head was that people tended to mind their own business.  
  
“Aberforth,” she said, nodding at the bartender.  
  
He returned her nod. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today. Why don’t you come to the back.”  
  
She followed him behind the bar, noticing that a figure in the corner booth had grown interested in their movements. She tabled the suspicion for the moment, she had more pressing matters to attend to. 

When they reached the back room, she took the opportunity to express her condolences. “Aberforth, I know you weren’t particularly close with your brother, but I am very sorry for your loss,” she began.  
  
“How well did you know him?” Aberforth asked her.  
  
“Enough to know that he cared about you, and for Ariana,” she nodded at the painting on the wall of a young, blond girl, “even if his actions didn’t always reflect that,” she admitted.  
  
Aberforth scoffed, “He told you to say that, did he?”  
  
“No. In fact he didn’t know that I knew that. Besides, my actions are my own, Aberforth, you know that, which is why I am here today,” she said firmly. “He left something for me did he not?”  
  
Aberforth assessed her. “You’re a fool to come here. Anything my brother could give you is only going to give you trouble, but alas, I did give him my word. Here,” he shoved a letter into her hands, “I told him I would keep it until you returned.” He picked up some bottles of butterbeer and handed her a couple; she assumed it was to make it look like there was a reason for why they went back there. “Now please, if you have any sense you won’t come back to Hogsmeade. The Death Eaters have made it known that anyone who had allegiance to Dumbledore and the Potter boy will be rounded up and their blood status will be assessed. Given your history, I don’t even think that would save you.’  
  
“Thank you, Mr. Dumbledore, for the note, and for the advice.” She followed him back into the bar before taking her leave. On her way out, however, she noticed the figure in the corner had left.  
  
She walked back up the High Street and made good on her note to stop in for a drink at the Three Broomsticks. She opened the door, grabbed a table with a view of the door and a familiar scent washed over her. When was the last time she was here? After her N.E.W.Ts? Or was it before she left on assignment? While she pondered that, a familiar witch sidled up to her table with a warm smile on her face.

“Well, there’s a face I never thought I’d see again,” the barmaid began with a smile. 

“I had an errand to run, but if anyone asks, you haven’t seen me,” she winked.  
  
“Noted, my dear, so what can I get you?” she asked.  
  
“Well, I was hoping for a stiff drink and maybe a chance to sit down and catch up with you?”  
  
“Well I can’t say no to that.” Madam Rosmerta disappeared for a moment behind the bar and then returned quickly with two glasses and a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey. “I figured a homecoming of this magnitude warranted a real drink.” She poured the drinks. “So what can I help you with?”

She took a drink, relishing in the familiar burning sensation that was suddenly spreading throughout her body. “Have they come for you?” she began bluntly.  
  
“Yes.” Madam Rosmerta admitted, “They tried to get information from me, thinking that because he liked to have a drink here, he was a simpleton that would spill his secrets after a butterbeer.” She took another drink. “I didn’t tell them a thing. But things are changing; I’m not sure how much longer I will be able to stay here. If the Ministry falls... I won’t have any protections here.” 

“Do you have a safe place to go?” she asked. “Don’t tell me where, I just want to make sure you have a plan.”  
  
“I do. Kingsley helped me set it up.”  
  
“Kingsley Shacklebolt? Isn’t he with the Muggle Prime Minister?” she asked, genuinely interested.  
  
“Yes he is. But prior to his assignment he and Dumbledore worked to protect as many of us as they could. That’s all I can say about it.” Madam Rosmerta said.  
  
“Of course. I knew I was coming back to a different world, but I didn’t know it was this bad.” She admitted, taking a long drink.  
  
“Why did you return, if I may ask?”  
  
She laughed, taking another sip of her drink. “You know me, can’t stay away from the thick of it,” she said, dodging the question.  
  
“I would say you haven’t changed, but I know better. It’s really good to see you.” Madam Rosmerta finished her drink and got up. “Please, take care of yourself.”  
  
“You too, Madam Rosmerta,” she replied and started to pull out some coins.  
  
“Oh no, dear, this one’s on me. Just promise me you’ll be safe out there.” Madam Rosmerta smiled and patted her arm gently.  
  
“I promise. Thank you.”  
  
She got up and nodded at the barmaid once more. Leaving the tavern, she noticed a glint of silver in the alley across the street. She looked up and saw someone standing between the bookshop and the apothecary. It was the same person from the Hog's Head and this time they were staring directly at her… She looked directly at them, with a smirk, cocked her head to the side before shaking it and then walked back down the High Street once more.  
  
She reached the Hogsmeade train station and as she expected, the mysterious figure stood waiting for her.  
  
“You’re back,” it said.  
  
“It seems you are too,” she replied.  
  
“You left with no word.”  
  
“I had to.”  
  
“Then you stopped writing.”  
  
“So did you.”  
  
The figure looked at her and finally took their hood down, revealing the face of Merula Snyde  
  
“So you knew it was me, O’Connor?” Merula asked.  
  
“Of course. I saw the ring.” She pointed at the silver ring on Merula’s left hand.  
  
“Is it that easy to spot?”  
  
Clara held up her hand and showed her her ring. “Yes, which is why I usually take it off.” She shoved her hand in her robes, “But it felt wrong to not wear it here, in Hogsmeade.”  
  
Merula nodded in understanding. “Why are you back?”  
  
“I could ask you the same,” Clara answered.  
  
Merula pulled out a note, identical to the one Clara just picked up. “Dumbledore said you’d return,” she said.  
  
“I wanted to come immediately after it happened, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.” Clara admitted, feeling less anxious.  
  
“Understood. Where are you planning to go?”  
  
“I’m working on it.”  
  
“Here,” she wrote something on a note, “This is a safe house, do not give that address to anybody. I am the secret keeper and now you can enter safely. Come here if you need refuge. Do not attempt to use the Floo Network and if you need to write, don’t write your name.”  
  
“Are you sure about this?” she asked, thinking about what happened the last time they saw each other.  
  
Merula nodded and went to leave, but before she did she turned and said, “Clara, it’s really good to see you. I, I mean we, we’ve missed you.”  
  
Clara tensed up but responded with, “I’ve missed you too, Merula.”  
  
She gave her one last look and then with a POP disapparated. 

Clara exhaled and let the tension leave her body. She did not expect to see Merula, and after seeing her she was just as confused about where they stood as the last time. And so much for a quiet homecoming. She needed to be more careful.   
  
She took a look around the empty Hogsmeade station again. Her next stop would be Diagon Alley but she wasn’t ready to leave. It had been six years since she left Hogwarts and seven years since she lost her best friend. She could feel Rowan’s presence everywhere she went, but it was always more pronounced here. The clock was stuck again, she realized with a laugh, remembering the last time she and Rowan sat here, waiting for one of Jae Kim’s dodgy importers. Clara took the ring off of her hand and looked it over. Etched on the outside, looking worn these days, was an infinity symbol and the inscription on the inside read _Infinite, Unbroken, Forever…_  
  
“I told you we would come back here, Ro,” she said to herself. “But what do you think? Am I crazy to come back?”  
  
The wind rustled a few leaves by her feet and she laughed. “You’re right, I am crazy. I’m here talking to a ring.”  
  
And then with a turn on her heel, she disapparated too.  
  
\--- 


	2. Curse-Breaker Wanted

**Chapter 2: Curse-Breaker Wanted** **  
** _ July 31st, 1997 _ _   
_ _ Diagon Alley, London _ _   
  
_

Clara awoke the next morning in an unfamiliar place. She took a moment to orient herself and finally remembered that she had rented a room at the Leaky Cauldron the night before. She slowly got dressed, grabbed her worn traveling cloak from the chair, and laced her leather boots. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept in a real bed and while the small dose of normalcy was nice, it was oddly unsettling.

She reached into her mokeskin pouch and searched around for another one of her prized possessions. She took out the picture, touching the worn edges. How many times had she looked at this picture? Every day since she went on assignment, likely. In the morning when she would wake from another restless sleep in a snow covered tent. And then at night, by the light of the blue flames. It was a ritual that kept her sane and focused during long stretches in isolation; now it was just part of her regular routine.    
  
She sighed, put the picture away again and then started removing all of the protective enchantments she had placed on the room; another part of her routine. She packed her rucksack and then she exited her room and walked down the stairs to the main landing of the Leaky Cauldron. Similar to her experience in Hogsmeade, the bar was much more empty than she was used to.   
  
She tapped the bricks in the alley with her wand in the familiar pattern that she had done so many times before. She wanted to check out all of her usual spots but she first needed to refill her coffers, so her first stop would be Gringotts Bank. But walking through the archway, she saw that Diagon Alley had changed too. Most of the shops were boarded up, even Ollivanders was closed.   
  
When she made it to the familiar white, marble building she immediately took note of the heightened security. Two Gringotts guards stood on either side of the burnished bronze doors. They each held golden instruments that she knew well: Probity Probes.    
  
“Halt,” the right guard said, holding up his hand to stop her.   
  
“I work for Gringotts,” she said while she reached in her robes for her badge which was still valid for the time being.   
  
The guard looked at it and nodded, sending her through. She murmured her thanks and then continued into the vast, marble hall. Still, after all these years, the entrance hall of Gringotts was one of her most favourite places. Full of history and ancient magic. Taking it all in, she walked up to the counter to talk to the nearest goblin.   
  
“Hello, Griphook.” she said, “it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Clara had spent a lot of time with goblins through the years. While they were exceedingly brilliant, most of the goblins she had met while working for Gringotts were not very friendly.    
  
“Ah, hello, Miss O’Connor. It has been awhile. I hope your dealings went well.” he nodded at her, peering over his gold rimmed glasses. “Are you here to make a deposit or withdraw funds?”    
  
“I need to make a withdrawal,” she said, avoiding his initial statement. She trusted Griphook about as far as she could throw him and wouldn’t dare discuss a case with him.

He asked for her key, which she presented, and then after he inspected it, he asked her to present her wand to prove her identity. After confirming that everything was in order with his associate, Griphook gestured for her to follow him to the carts. Clara was dreading this part the most; after the familiar winding journey down to her vault, Clara was starting to feel ill. She grabbed enough coins to cover her for at least a year, hiding the majority in her mokeskin pouch. She clambered back in the cart and closed her eyes, thinking about all the first time she had to do this alone.    
  
In no time, she was back above the ground, and heading back up the main alley, back to the shops. She passed by Madam Malkin’s shop and was transported back to her first year. She was alone in Diagon Alley, surrounded by people she didn’t know in a place she had never been to alone before. That was when she met Rowan for the first time. She smiled, remembering the moment Rowan asked for her fashion advice. To this day she does not know if she made the right call, but Rowan kept that scarf with her for six years. Clara now had it in her rucksack, carrying it with her always.    
  
Clara continued walking until she finally arrived at one of the few stores that were still open for business, the General Apothecary. She opened the door and found it full of students and adult witches and wizards that were attempting to quickly stock up. She always preferred the General Apothecary to Slug and Jiggers, which despite having fascinating products, catered to a much dodgier crowd.    
  
She walked in and looked around the shop, her eyes finally landed on who she was looking for; a blond witch in green robes who was busy helping a student find a bezoar. She walked towards her and asked, “Are you hiring?”   
  
“I’m sorry, but we are fully staffed at the moment,” said the witch who was now busy weighing different powders. She didn’t even look up at the question. 

“Well, that is unfortunately because I could have sworn I read an ad in the Prophet that said ‘Curse-Breaker Wanted’” she said, smiling.    
  
“What? We never made an ad for a curse-breaker,” the witch finally looked upon seeing Clara, she dropped the vial of powder, which shattered at her feet.

“Clara? Oh my goodness, is it really you?” Penny exclaimed and sprinted around the counter to hug her friend. “Is this real? Are you real?”    
  
“Yes! I am in fact.”   
  
Penny looked at her, beaming. And then suddenly, “WHY,” SMACK, “DID,” SMACK, “YOU,” SMACK, “STOP,” SMACK, “WRITING ME?” Penny emphasised every word with a direct hit to her shoulder.    
  
“Ow! Penny!” Clara tried dodging the blows, “I couldn’t write. It was impossible to write without drawing attention to myself.”    
  
Penny stepped back, her eyes narrowed. Clara shrugged and smiled sheepishly.   
  
“Honestly, Clara,” Penny sighed, “It’s impossible to stay mad at you. Twelve years I’ve known you and I’ve never been good at it.” She smiled and waved her wand to clean up the mess. “Come to the back, let’s catch up.”    
  
\---   
****

“So, in your last letter you said you were following a group of wizards in Norway?” Penny asked, handing her a plate of biscuits.    
  
Clara drank a swig of her tea and grabbed one from the plate. “Yes, we followed them along the coast of the Norweigan Sea. The theory was that the source of the magical disturbance was coming from Durmstrang, so they stationed us there.” She took a quick bite and then continued, “So for the first year I was living in a magical community near Oslo and then we would move up the coast to increasingly more remote communities about every 4 months so we didn’t draw attention to ourselves.”   
  
“And what did you find out?”    
  
“Well, the theory was indeed correct. I can’t tell you exactly what was going on, but it was important that we investigated it.”    
  
Penny laughed, “I feel like I’m back in school again.”    
  
“How do you figure?” Clara asked.    
  
“Well, how many times did I visit you in the hospital wing having no clue what happened,” she began with another laugh, “and how many times did you say that you can’t tell me exactly what happened, but it was important that you did it.”    
  
Clara couldn’t help but laugh. “I suppose you’re right about that. But at least I was paid for it this time.”    
  
Penny smiled and refilled her tea. Sitting back down, she sighed, and asked, “Clara, why did you go? When I asked Ben he just said you came into the office one day and asked for a transfer off of your assignment.”    
  
Clara looked at her, “I don’t know if I can tell you the full truth Pen. But there was a reason beyond just me needing a change.”    
  
“Did something happen… with someone?”    
  
Clara sighed, “Yes and no. The circumstances and timing were just too much. I panicked and I asked for a transfer out of Egypt.”    
  
Penny nodded. “Have you talked to anyone since?”    
  
“I’ve had a few letters. But I had to cut off complete communication about a year and a half ago when things got really dangerous, which is why I stopped writing I promise,” she trailed off, “Ben and I connect off and on as he’s working in the office now and Bill is now technically my supervisor since he switched back to working in the UK. Also he sent me a wedding invitation but I didn’t get it until I got back so I wasn’t able to RSVP.”    
  
“Well. You’re in luck then, because my date fell through and I’ve got a really nice dress that I want to show off,” Penny smiled. 

“Well lucky me, then!” she exclaimed. She then poured herself another cup. “It’s so good to see you, Pen,” she said.    
  
Penny gave her a sad smile. “You too, Clara. We’ve been worried, you know. Between Egypt and Norway, no one has really seen you in person in almost four years.”    
  
“I know, but I promise you can stop worrying for a little while, because I am not going back.”   
  
“You’re not?” Penny asked, surprised.    
  
“No, I’m staying home. I already put the paperwork in. Beginning mid-August, I will no longer be a curse-breaker for Gringotts.”    
  
“I am honestly surprised to hear that Clara, though selfishly I am happy about it. What are you going to do now?”   
  
Clara thought about the letter from Dumbledore that was burning a hole in her pocket. “I don’t know yet. I haven’t thought about anything else since I began training. There’s a lot to figure out, but I know I need to be here.” 

“Do you know where you are going to live?” Penny asked seriously. “Will you go... home?”   


“I don’t know that either. I should go see them, at least. It has been four years,” Clara trailed off again.  
  
Penny smiled, “Well, while you’re trying to figure that out, we have some shelves that may need to be restocked, and I’m feeling very tired today.”    
  
“Oh I see how it is? You won’t hire me but you’ll put me to work for free?” Clara teased.    
  
“Of course. It just makes good business sense, Clara,” Penny beamed. “But as for housing, you can stay with me. Chiara took a new position in Wales, so I’ve got a room to spare.”

“Really?” Clara asked, “that would be perfect.”  


“Of course, Clara, what are best friends for.” Penny smiled, “but I will make you work for it. Now off you go, those shelves won’t stock themselves!”  
  
\---


	3. Flying with the Harpies

**Chapter 3: Flying With The Harpies  
** July 30th, 1997   
_ Holyhead, Wales _ _   
_ _   
_ In the township of Holyhead in the Welsh county Isle of Anglesey, the locals tell harrowing stories about the Gwrach-y-Rhibyn, otherwise known as the Hag of the Mist. The Hag, with her harpy-like appearance, they say, would often travel beside her next victim and as they approached a stream or crossroads she would shriek their name, bringing death upon their head.    
  
However, in the summer of 1997, the only harpies that were seen by the residents of Holyhead near the rivers and crossroads were the professional athletes who graced the grounds of the Holy Island. In fact, most mornings, if they took a stroll down Four Mile Bridge, they would see a group of them running from one edge of the bridge and back. The locals were used to the women by now and believed themselves to be staunch supporters, often stopping to catch up on the league tables, although for the life of them, they could never remember what sport it was that they played. This could have been due to the fact that t he any muggles walking in proximity to the sporting pitch would suddenly be overcome with an unfortunate lapse in their memory.   
  
Though  Holyhead was a primarily muggle township, deep within the Breakwater Country Park, hidden from the muggles, lay the site of the professional quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies. An all-female team, led by their brutish captain, Gwenog Jones, the Harpies were fresh off of another mediocre finish in the league tables. This off-season had been one of the most brutal in recent memory; their performance clearly had only increased Gwenog’s desire for perfection.    
  
At the end of a particularly hard morning sprint session that had them running sprints before the sun rose, Holyhead’s star chaser Skye Parkin turned to her teammate, Erika Rath and said, “if I ever turn into her, please whack a bludger at me.”    
  
“No need to wait, Parkin, I’ll smack one at you right now if you don’t shut up,” Rath yawned.    
  
Skye laughed and turned her attention to the group. “Okay ladies, Gwenog is out for practice tonight so we will need Daniels to suit up at beater. We also need Morris and Davies in at Chaser as Wilda is on half reps. Everyone else, same roles as last night. We will be focusing on our transitions after turnovers, so Keepers, prepare to be vocal tonight. Get your rest and we’ll see you on the pitch at seven.” The group muttered their thanks and started to change into their post-run gear.    
  
“Good job, Parkin. You’re a natural leader,” said Gwenog. “Assistant captain fits you well.” She clapped her on the back. “See you in the office around six? We have some stuff to discuss.”    
  
“Of course, see you then.” They nodded at each other before Gwenog took her leave. One by one the athletes turned on their heels and disapparated from the area.    
  
“Assistant captain, eh?” Rath came over and gave her a playful push. “You’re already turning into her, let me go get my bat.” She laughed. “But seriously, you’ve earned it.”   
  
“Thanks, Erika.” She smiled.    
  
Rath rolled her eyes at the mention of her first name. “Really?” she asked.    
  
“It’s been seven years, Rath, I think I earned the right. Also I guess I’m kind of your boss now, eh?”    
  
“I can still smack you, don’t think a title will stop that.”    
  
Skye laughed, “Sure, sure,” she said. “Harbour walk?”   
  
“Sure,” she nodded, and then both Erika and Skye turned and apparated to their usual spot, near the Old Harbour.    
  
Skye landed on the ground in the cluster of trees that was sheltered from the main road. Rath appeared a moment later. They started to walk back to the main street together. “So, how’s McLaggen?” Rath asked.    
  
“She’s good, taking some time off from the on-pitch work. She’s working mostly in the clinic now,”  Skye responded.   
  
“And you two are official?”    
  
Skye glanced over at here teammate and answered, “We are keeping things discreet.”    
  
“No one will care on the team, you know that right? Most of the team is too, you know.”    
  
“I know.” Skye admitted, “but it’s not the team I worry about. In a year I’m supposed to be the conquering hero for the Scottish national team. I don’t think they’ll take too kindly to this kind of press. Best to keep a low profile when it comes to my personal life.”    
  
Rath nodded and then asked, “I see your point, but is that the entire reason?”   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Well, is that the only reason you're not disclosing it?" Erika asked.   
  
"I believe so. I can't think of another reason why I would keep it quiet," Skye stated.  
  
They continued their walk down towards the harbour, taking a moment to watch the sun fully rise over the horizon. They sat on their regular bench down by the water’s edge.    
  
“I think Gwenog is losing it,” Rath admitted.   
  
Skye murmured her agreement. “She’s tired of losing. I get it,” she said, “and I think the state of the world right now isn’t helping. I feel like one moment we’re playing quidditch, the next I’m reading about someone we know who disappeared.”    
  
“It’s like when we were at Hogwarts.” Rath said, with a half-laugh. “Every year it was something. The cursed ice, the kids getting trapped in paintings, the boggarts, and students getting petrified… it all seemed to happen around us while we just played quidditch.”    
  
“Yeah, but thankfully Clara was always there to stop it,” Skye said without thinking. She immediately stopped talking and turned away, embarrassed at the slip up.    
  
Rath, who sensed the change, tried to tackle the question delicately, “Have you talked to her lately?”    
  
“Not for awhile,” Skye admitted.   
  
“Does Amanda know about you two?”    
  
Skye looked over at her teammate and shook her head. “No. I can’t do that to Clara. It’s not just my secret to tell.” She got up and stretched her legs. “Besides, there’s really nothing to tell. We had something when we were seventeen and then it ended.”  _   
_   
“Are you sure that’s it?” Rath asked. "You mean to say nothing has happened in the last six years between you two?"   
  
“Yes, nothing has happened. Besides, Amanda and I started dating two years ago and I haven't seen Clara at all,” she lied and then changed the subject. “So, have you decided what to do about what’s her name?”    
  
Rath laughed, “Oh we’re done.”    
  
“Already?” Skye asked incredulously.    
  
“It’s impossible to get into anything when I’ve got my eyes set on someone else.”    
  
“Still? It’s been seven years, Rath,” Skye teased, “and she still hasn’t noticed you. Either she’s actually blind or she’s not into women.”    
  
“Never say never, my friend.” Rath laughed again. “I have to run, though. Need to do some things before training.” She nodded and then took off around Holyhead harbour. 

Skye decided that she would take a detour before heading home. There was a cafe near her apartment that she couldn’t get enough of, and it just so happened that her girlfriend of two years just so happened to live above it. She ordered a couple coffees from the shop below and then brought them up stairs that lead to the upstairs apartment.   
  
“Hi Amanda, I brought coffees,” she yelled over the sound of Amanda’s wireless. Celestina Warbeck was serenading her from the kitchen   


“Oh hi, love,” she peeked her head out of the doorframe, a mixing bowl in hand. “I’m just in here making biscuits. Can you put mine on the table for me?”    
  
Skye nodded and placed the paper cup down on the table. She took a deep drink of hers, letting the caffeine work its magic on her. Her brain was finally starting to function.   
  
“Biscuits? At this hour?” she asked with a smile. “What’s the occasion?”    
  
“Just needed something to lure you in, obviously.” Amanda laughed, “we’re having a retirement party for one of the medi-wizards at the pitch so I need to make a bunch of biscuits.”    
  
“Save me one?” Skye asked with an even bigger grin.   
  
“I can save you something better,” she responded, giving her a quick kiss. “Can you open that letter for me? I have dough on my hands.” Amanda gestured at the letter on the table. 

Skye nodded and grabbed the letter from the table. “It’s a letter from your Mum. She says she’s doing okay and that she hopes you can come over soon. She wants to discuss something with you.”    
  
“Thanks, Skye. I’ll answer her in a bit.”    
  
Skye put the letter back down and accidentally shifted some papers. She spotted something that looked like an invitation to something.    
  


_ You are cordially invited to the marriage of  _

_ William Arthur Weasley  _

_ and  _

_ Fleur Isabelle Delacour  _

_ August 1st, 1997 _ _   
_ _ The Burrow - Ottery St. Catchpole _

__ _   
_ “Hey Mandy, I didn’t know you knew Bill and Fleur?” Skye said loudly, over the sound of Amanda washing her hands.    
  
“Oh yes, I’ve been friends with Bill since we were kids. We hung out some at school, but he was a year older and in Gryffindor while I was in Hufflepuff… so we didn’t see each other a lot. Really nice of him to invite me though.” Amanda said, walking back out of the kitchen. “Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come?”    
  
“Really? I don’t know… it’s pretty public. Do you think it’s a good idea?” Skye asked her, seriously.    
  
“We can just tell people we’re friends, Skye, it’s really not a problem,” Amanda said casually, “I just want to see you dressed up,” she smiled and winked at Skye.    
  
“Okay, McLaggen, I’ll think about being your date to a wedding,” she smiled back, slyly. “When do you need to know by?”    
  
“Ideally today,” she laughed. “Can you give me an answer after training this evening?”   
  


“For sure, Mandy,” Skye smiled.    
  
\---   
  
“Listen Parkin, we’re making progress here, but our depth chart is looking pathetic. We need some new recruits,” Gwenog said, chewing on some crystallised pineapple.    
  
“I know, I was at their session yesterday and I swear one of them couldn't even catch a drop pass.”    
  
Gwenog looked at the list. “We need that Weasley kid. Have you seen her play?    
  
“Yes, I went up to see the Cup game last year. Wanted to see Potter play but he got himself in detention I guess. She shifted from Chaser to Seeker and looked really comfortable,” Skye said. “I daresay she could play right now.”    
  
“Indeed. She’s better than any of the reserves we have on the second team. What’s her name, Jenny?” she asked.   
  
“It’s Ginny, well technically Ginevra, but I hear she hates that.” Skye admitted.    
  
Gwenog stared at her, inquisitively.    
  
“I was friends with her brother Charlie at Hogwarts,” Skye clarified. “We won two Quidditch Cups together.”    
  
“Is that so?” Gwenog asked. “Perfect, then you can connect with him and try to set up a meeting.”    
  
Skye sputtered, “Well, I mean we were friends. I haven’t seen him in over seven years.”    
  
“Perfect time for a reunion then,” she said firmly.   
  
Skye sighed, “Okay, I will set something up. I was actually invited to his brother’s wedding, so I’ll just chat with them all then.” 

“It’s settled then, you are going to go have a few drinks and loosen up for once in your life and sell our team to the kid. You get her here, you might be celebrating another Cup with a Weasley.”    
  
Skye laughed and rolled her eyes. “Alright, I get the point. It’s important.” She got up, “I’ll report back on Monday.”    
  
“Good. There’s a reason I made you assistant captain.” Gwenog said, “But seriously, Parkin. Have a bloody drink. You’re too uptight. Dismissed.”    
  
Skye turned and left.   
  
_ Guess I have my answer for Amanda, then,  _ she thought to herself, _ this is going to be so uncomfortable.  _ _   
_   
\---   
  
_ August 1st, 1997 _ _   
_   
_ What am I doing here?  _ Skye thought as she landed in Ottery St. Catchpole that lovely August morning.  _ I haven’t talked to the Weasleys in years. _ She thought to herself, pretending to be interested in the map located in the town square.  _ I was barely invited and now I’m coming to the wedding to recruit their youngest child? Absolutely inappropriate. Gwenog has lost her mind. _ _   
_ _   
_ “Skye? Earth to Skye?” a voice chuckled beside her. She hated it when she said that. “Are you okay, love?”    
  
Skye looked over at Amanda, “Yes, I’m alright. I just feel weird about this. I haven’t seen any of them in years, it just feels tacky.”    
  
“Nonsense. You’re my date, and whoever my date decides to chat with and about what is completely up to her.” Amanda replied, kissing her on the cheek. “Now let’s grab a drink in the village before we head over. Don’t want to be too early of course.”    
  
Skye followed her to the pub beside the post office. She spotted an owl perched on the post office roof and a broomstick on the pub’s sign. “Amanda,” she asked, “is this a muggle or a magical community?”   
  
“Both!” she answered cheerily, “but this bar is a wizard spot.”    
  
“How do you know so much about it?”    
  
“Oh, I grew up around here, just on the other side of the forest. We moved into London when my father was promoted to his job in the Ministry. My father was close with Amos Diggory, before, well… you know.” she trailed off, “anyway, that’s how I met Bill and Charlie originally.”    
  
“I didn’t know that.” Skye smiled at her girlfriend, “Thank you for bringing me. I’m sorry I’ve been a bit difficult.”    
  
“No worries, love. Now, let’s toast to us and to this day!” Amanda smiled, raising her glass. 

“Cheers!”   
  
“Cheers,” Skye replied, touching her glass to Amanda’s.    
  
“So, do you think you’ll see anyone you know? I mean apart from the Weasley’s of course.”    
  
“I doubt it. Well maybe Tonks. Chiara told me she was married now,” she swigged her drink.    
  
“What about what’s her name, the one with the brother that was expelled. She was kind of famous at school.”    
  
“Clara O’Connor.” Skye said, her gaze fixated on the glass of firewhiskey.   
  
“Yes! That’s the one. She was your teammate, right?”    
  
“Yes.”    
  
“Yeah, she wasn’t half bad. Nothing compared to you, though.” She smiled.   
  
Skye didn’t respond, just took another drink.  _ Clara could have been just as good _ , she thought to herself,  _ if she wasn’t too busy saving people all the time.  _   
  
“Do you think she’ll be here?” Amanda asked, drawing Skye’s attention again.    
  
Skye shrugged, “I have no idea if she’ll be there. Last I heard she was somewhere in Northern Europe so my guess would be no.”    
  
“You two were pretty good friends before you left, no?” Amanda asked, innocently.    
  
“We were friends, teammates, I guess we were close,” she lied.    
  
“I wonder what she’s like now… I always thought she was really cute. I bet she’d clean up if she were gay,” Amanda laughed, “don’t you think?”    
  
Skye finished her drink. “Another, please,” she asked the bartender.    
  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Amanda asked.    
  
She nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Just nervous about seeing people I haven’t seen in a while. Or not seeing people. I don’t know.”   
  
Amanda grabbed her hand. “Listen, if you want to pretend we’re just friends and that you came because my date fell through, I’m fine with that. You’ve got a lot more to lose than me, so I understand.” She smiled. “I’m just happy to be here with you. You look phenomenal by the way.” Amanda gave her the up down, appraising her outfit.    
  
“Well, I should hope I do, you picked it out.” Skye smiled and squeezed her hand. Then she added, “You’re beautiful and wonderful. I’m happy to be here with you too.”    
  
\---


	4. The Decision

**Chapter 4: The Decision  
  
** ****_ June 1991  
  
_ _  
_ “So, what’s the plan, O’Connor?” Merula asked as they walked to Hogsmeade together. “Are you going to take the offer?”    
  
Clara laughed, “Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, I think a lot of people think I should, but after seven years of breaking curses, aren’t you in need of a break?”    
  
“Absolutely not. We broke the legendary cursed vaults, for free I might add, doesn’t that make you want to track down more and break those too? But this time for money,” Merula exclaimed as Ben caught up with them. “What about you Copper, are you taking the offer?”    
  
“I think so. I don’t really have any other options. Not like Clara, here.” he said. “Which way are you leaning, Clara?”    
  
She shrugged. “No clue,” she replied honestly. “I just need to think about it. Curses and vaults have been the only thing I’ve focused on for years, what if I’m missing out on my true calling?”    
  
“Wake up and smell the obvious, O’Connor.” Merula scoffed, “Curse-breaking is the only thing you’re not complete shite at.”    
  
They all laughed and then Clara shot back at Merula, “If you’re trying to compliment me, you can just come out and say it, Merula,” she teased.    
  
Merula shook her head and rolled her eyes.    
  
“Well just think about it, Clara, won’t you?” Ben asked.    


“I will think about it, I promise.”    
  
\--- _  
_ _ July 1st, 1991 _ _  
  
_ _  
_ _ Dear Skye,  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ I have reached a crossroads and I need advice from someone who really knows me. I know we haven’t seen each other in months, but maybe that’ll help you look at this objectively.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ I have been offered a position with Gringotts to be a curse-breaker. Everyone I’ve spoken to thinks this is the right path for me, but I am not so sure. In addition to that offer, the Auror office wants to speak to me personally, as well as the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Given my affinity for magical creatures, I wonder if that might be the best choice. I do miss the hours we spent studying and the adventures Hagrid sent us on to befriend them. Maybe I just miss you, though.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Oh, I was also offered a development team position with Kenmare, but I think it was publicity driven. They are my hometown team and when the news broke about the final vault… it just seemed too coincidental. Besides, I love the sport, but I don’t know if I love it enough to try and play for a career.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ You see the trouble I am facing? I could really use some advice.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Hoping I see you soon,  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Clara _ _  
  
_ _  
_ Clara finished the letter and attached the scroll to her owl’s leg before ushering him out of the window. “Be quick, Tilly. You know where to go.”    
  
Tilly hooted in understanding and took off into the night. Clara looked out of the window at the rolling hills that surrounded her family’s grounds. Maybe a stroll to the stables would help ease her mind. Pure-blood, though she was, her family had a history of blending into muggle culture and therefore had an affinity for horse breeding.    
  
She never shared that with anyone, she realized then. In fact, she avoided sharing information about her family with anyone. Ever since her brother’s expulsion and subsequent disappearance, she avoided talking about her family at all. And ever since her brother returned, it had become much more complicated.    
  
She sighed. It was too late for a stable visit. Maybe in the morning.    
  
\---   
_ July 7th, 1991 _   
  
  
_ Dear Clara,  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ It was lovely to hear from you. I do miss your letters, and you. I am not surprised that you’ve received a ton of offers, your talents extend way beyond simply curse-breaking, although you are incredibly good at it.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ I’m afraid that I can’t be objective about it. The fact is that I am selfish and don’t want anything to happen to you, so any suggestion I make will unfortunately be extremely biased. The truth is that you’d be exceptional in any role, but I don’t want you to be in danger any more.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Kenmare is interesting. I would love to see you on the pitch again, but I understand your hesitation. Speaking confidentially, I think you are likely right. Not that I doubt your skills, because I saw first hand how good you are during the Cup final this past spring, but I doubt their manager’s intentions. If you are really interested in playing, however, I can help you with negotiations and asking the right questions. But I have a feeling you may be leaning in another direction.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Please come visit. I have a new quidditch tactic that I want to show you, I think you’ll like it.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Skye _ _  
_ _  
_ \--- _  
_ _ July 30th, 1991 _ _  
  
_ _  
_ _ Dear Skye,  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ The visit didn’t help me make my decision, but I certainly enjoyed the tactics you employed.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Can I come back again soon? _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Clara _ _  
_ _  
_ _ \--- _ _  
_ _ August 8th, 1991 _ _  
  
_ _  
_ _ Dear Clara,  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Always. I’ll leave the light on.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Skye _ _  
_ _  
_ _ \--- _ _  
_ _ August 15th, 1991 _ _  
  
_ _  
_ _ Dear Skye,  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ I hope training is going well. Soon Gwenog will have you running the show, mark my words.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ I made my decision. I am going to take the offer with Gringotts. I had a long talk with Bill and then I sat down and made a pros and cons list. I know, it sounds really silly, but the pros outweighed the cons and it’s the only decision I’ve felt remotely okay with. Besides, I can always quit and do something else if I don’t like it.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ I start training on September 1st and would love to see you before I begin. I am not sure how much free time I have once I start.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Please let me know,  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Clara _ _  
_ _  
_ _ \--- _ _  
_ _ August 20th, 1991 _ _  
  
_ _  
_ _ Dear Clara,  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ I was sad to hear you didn’t take the offer, it would have been nice to see you on the pitch again. But, I can’t say I am surprised. In fact I daresay I would have been shocked to my core if you chose quidditch over curse breaking. At least I won’t worry that you’ll be chasing dark wizards down with Aurors or something, I only have to worry about curses. Ha. Ha.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Training is fine. Gwenog is a tyrant, which is not news, but ever since I officially made the first team she has been extra hard on me. She loves Rath though, and I honestly think Rath really loves her back… she won’t admit it but I think it’s true. If anyone will be running the show, it’ll be her.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Please come see me on Friday, we can spend the whole weekend together. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Skye _ _  
_   
\---   
_ September 1st, 1991 _ _  
_ __ Ministry of Magic, London  
  


“I am glad you decided to take the offer, Clara,” Bill began, “I know there were a lot of options on the table, but I really think you are well suited for the job.”

“Well you’ve always had an unreasonable amount of faith in me,” Clara laughed. 

“I assure you it wasn’t misplaced. You’ve broken more curses than half the wizards I work with,” Bill replied. 

“Most of that was luck, and I always had help,” Clara responded.

“Be that as it may, you’ve earned this chance,” Bill smiled. “Besides, we always work in teams, so you won’t be alone here.”

Clara nodded, feeling a bit better. “So when do we start?” she asked. 

“Right now. I’m going to bring you to meet the supervisor and then training will begin immediately. It’s part classroom and part practical training. Here,” he stated, then pulled out a letter, “all the details are listed in here. Your supervisor, Mr. Johnson, is a bit tough so make sure you read through all of your instructions and come prepared and ready to train.”

Clara gulped and nodded. 

Bill took a look at her and asked, “Ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be.” 

They walked down the hallway, past the clusters of desks that lined the office, and arrived at a large wooden door. The name plate on the door read Reginald Johnson.

“Here we are,” Bill said and then knocked. 

“Come in,” a booming voice said from behind the door.

“In you go, I’ll see you at the end of the day.” Bill gave her a light push before heading down the hall.

She gulped and then opened the door.

“Ah Miss O'Connor, I’m glad you made it. Weasley has said nothing but good things about you.” Mr. Johnson got up from his chair and strided over to her. He was a tall man with dark skin, and his arms were covered in scars which Clara assumed was from the nature of the job. He shook her hand firmly.

She returned his handshake and said, “Thank you, sir, it’s a privilege to be here. A privilege that I take very seriously.”

“So I hear. Your references also spoke very highly of you, although they did mention you had a certain talent for breaking rules in your quest to break curses.”

The colour drained from Clara’s face. “I, umm, well-” she stammered.

Mr. Johnson laughed heartily. “No need to worry, O’Connor, sometimes rules need to be broken. However,” he began in a much more serious tone, “when it comes to carrying out missions, it’s important that team members are on the same page. Going rogue can be dangerous, I hope you remember that.”

She nodded and agreed. “Absolutely, sir, I understand.”

“Good. Now, I’m sure Weasley briefed you on how we do things, but let me explain how the next month will work. Every day we will spend 3 hours in the classroom learning, which based on the number of O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts you received, shouldn’t be an issue for you. But the last 3 hours of the day will be practical and/or fitness training.”

He pulled out a stack of textbooks and pushed them towards Clara.

“These are the study materials you will need. Apart from that I suggest you take a look at this list,” he pulled a piece of parchment from his desk, “for extra reading.”

Clara nodded and grabbed the materials. “Thank you sir.”

“Of course.” He got up again, “we’re pleased to have you on board, O’Connor. The next three months will be tough, but as long as you’re prepared and you take this seriously, you will do well here."

Clara got up too, and reached out to shake his hand again. “Thank you, sir. I’m excited to get started.” 

There was a knock at the door and a slight, blond wizard who couldn’t be more than a few years older than Clara stuck his head in the door.

“Ah, Peterson, there you are,” Mr Johnson said before turning to Clara, “Peterson will take you to the classroom. Lesson one begins today. Off you go.” 

Clara nodded again and then followed the young man into the corridor. 

“I’m Clara O’Connor,” she said, introducing herself to him.

He looked at her briefly and said in a somewhat steely tone, “I know, we went to Hogwarts together. We all know who you are.”

“We did? What house were you in?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t Gryffindor.

“I was a year ahead of you, in Slytherin,” he replied.

“Fantastic. So you know Merula Snyde?” she said, trying to keep up with his pace. 

He nodded and then stopped abruptly. “Here you are, have fun,” he said, then left just as suddenly.

_ That was weird,  _ she thought, walking into the classroom.  _ Why was he so uncomfortable with me? _

But before she could ruminate any further, she saw Ben and Merula waving her over.

“See, I told you she would come,” Ben said to Merula, with a smile.

Merula rolled her eyes, but Clara recognized the look on her face. She was happy to see her too.

“Just so we’re clear,” Merula said, “I’m going to be the best one here.”

Clara laughed.  _ Some things never change. _

—-


	5. The Wedding, Part 1

**Chapter 5: The Wedding, Part 1.** **  
**_  
August 1st, 1997 _   
  
  
When Skye and Amanda arrived at the Burrow around three o’clock and were greeted by a plump boy with red hair who looked as though he was a Weasley, but she couldn’t quite tell which one.   
  
“Hi, I’m Amanda and this is Skye Parkin.”   
  
“Hullo,” the boy said. “I can show you to your seats.”   
  
“Thank you so much. I don’t mean to be a pain, but are we near the back?” asked Amanda. 

Skye had asked Amanda if they could sit near the back of the crowd. She’d been to too many events to know that even her presence at a wedding in the middle of nowhere would be something the press would grab onto.   
  
“Yes,” the boy answered. “It seems you are seated in the back on the bride’s side.”   
  
“Perfect!” she smiled at the boy.   
  
Moments like that made Skye like Amanda more and more. She was assertive, but kind, and she clearly cared a lot about Skye to be so understanding about her desire to keep things private.   
  
When they were finally seated, Skye took the opportunity to look around for some familiar faces. She saw Charlie, of course, and assumed that the redheaded woman standing next to him must be Ginny.   
  
She caught sight of who she thought was Tonks. Her hair was different, but her face hadn’t changed much in seven years. She assumed that the man next to her must be her husband, although he looked a lot older than Tonks.   
  
Looking down the line, she saw Penny’s blond hair in her classic braid. She couldn’t discern who the witch beside her was, wearing dashing blue dress robes, but she seemed familiar. Likely another witch from their year at Hogwarts. She had lost touch with so many people, especially after leaving in her sixth year. Clara made a lot of friends and brought her into the fold, but after they broke up and she left, she lost touch with everyone but Chiara and Rath.   
  
The music began to play and the crowd grew quiet. They watched as Bill emerged, beaming. He had a new scar on his face that looked ghastly, but when he smiled, you could barely notice it. Then Fleur began her walk down the aisle. Everyone gasped at her dress and, quite frankly, her beauty. There was a rumour she was part-veela and Skye had to admit, she thought that too. After the quick but beautiful ceremony, the crowd was asked to stand while the tufty-haired wizard who was performing the ceremony waved his wand and then the chairs lifted, and a dance floor and new tables appeared out of nowhere.   
  
“Wow, that was smooth.” Skye said, but Amanda was already pulling her towards Bill and Fleur. 

“Amanda! Thanks for coming, I wasn’t sure if you could find the time!” Bill said, hugging his old friend.   
  
“Of course! It’s the off-season so I have all the time in the world. You know Skye, of course?” she pointed to Skye who was standing off to the side.   
  
“You mean to say the Skye Parkin is at my wedding?” he teased, “of course I know Skye. How are you?”   
  
“Can’t complain, Bill. Congrats to you both and thank you so much for having me!” she replied, shaking his hand and then shaking Fleur’s who was positively beaming.   
  
“Of course, Skye, I’m so glad you’re here. Charlie will be ecstatic!” he turned and spotted his brother, “Hey Charlie! Look who it is!”   
  
“No way! Is that the real Skye Parkin!” Charlie rushed over and gave her a hug. “I can’t believe you made it, this is fantastic. I’m sure GInny will be excited to see you too. She is the biggest Holyhead fan in the world,” he beamed and shook his head. “What’s it been, seven years since we won and then immediately split?”   
  
Skye laughed, “It sure has,” she said. “Do you miss it?”   
  
“Sometimes I do. I can still remember the second Cup final. The final play was insane, when Clara made that crazy dive and then you grabbed het bat and pulled off the Dopplebeater.” He laughed.   
  
She agreed with a smile. “One of the best plays I’ve ever been a part of, that’s for sure.” 

“Wow, can’t believe it’s really you, Skye… Now we’ve got a real Quidditch Cup reunion going on!”   
  
Skye laughed, “Well, I hardly think two is a reunion!”   
  
“Two? Oh no, there’s three of us. Clara’s here too.”   
  
Skye froze. “She is?” she asked, trying not to sound too surprised.   
  
“Yes, she and Penny are sitting over there with Tonks and Remus.” He pointed vaguely to a table in the corner. She tried not to look, but curiosity got the better of her. Charlie was right, between Penny and Tonks there sat Clara O’Connor in the flesh.   
  
“Oh, I’m so sorry Skye, I have to go help my parents with something.” Charlie said, squeezing her arm, “But don’t leave, okay? We have to catch up before the night is done.” He smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.   
  
Amanda was still chatting with Bill and Fleur while Skye’s feet were locked to the floor. She tried to listen to their conversation but her mind kept wandering to the witch in the corner. _How can she be here?_ _No one has seen her in three years... I haven’t seen her in two years... How the bloody hell is Clara O’Connor here?_ She tried not to stare, but it was impossible not to. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually seen her.   
  
After a moment or two Amanda peeled herself from her conversation with Bill and turned back to Skye. “Let’s go grab a table, I’m famished!” She led Skye to a table where some of her friends were seated. They introduced themselves but Skye couldn’t remember their names; the blood was pounding so hard in her ears, a common side effect of being near Clara.  
  
She sat down and grabbed the nearest bottle of wine, pouring a sizable glass for herself. She drank it quickly; maybe she could talk to Ginny quickly and then leave. She tried to track her down, but of course, she was being swarmed by none other than the Blugarian bon-bon himself, Viktor Krum.   
  
They sat for a while, Skye refilled her cup and took a look around again. Clara wasn’t at the table with Penny, so she thought now would be a good time to go talk to them. She made a move to get up but then heard Amanda say, “Oh Tonks! You must remember Skye?”   
  
Skye’s attention was redirected again. “Wotcher! Skye! I can’t believe you’re here!” She said down immediately. “You remember my husband, Remus Lupin?” she pointed at Remus who had just returned with water for his new wife.   
  
“Of course. Chiara talks about you all the time.” Skye said. “She’s said so many wonderful things. I hear a second ‘congratulations’ is in order too,” she nodded at Tonks.   
  
“Yes! Isn’t it exciting?” Tonks said; Skye noticed Remus wasn’t as enthusiastic.  
  
“It really is.” Skye beamed back.   
  
“It’s really great to see you.” Tonks said while getting up. “Don’t leave, I know Clara will want to see you.” Tonks grabbed onto Remus’s hand and they bid farewell.   
  
Skye turned back to the group. She noticed some of Amanda’s friends had left; one was even dancing with a Weasley twin, who appeared to be missing an ear. So much had changed. She really didn’t know anything about anyone. She looked around again, seeing if she could spot Clara and she quickly found her sitting with another witch she knew well: Merula Snyde. Merula looked great, she had to admit. She needed another drink.   
  
“Amanda,” came another kind voice that she knew well, “did you get that last shipment we sent out?”   
  
“Penny! Hi!” Amanda responded, “Yes, we got the dittany. We are still low on Pepper-Up Potions, though. We had a summer flu run through the team a couple weeks ago and we ran out.”   
  
“You and just about every other team out there.” Penny laughed, “I’ve been filling shipments from Wigtown to Chudley all week. We’ll get you some this week, though. I promise!” she then turned to Skye, “and speaking of Wigtown, I did not expect to see Wigtown’s finest player here tonight! How are you, Skye?” she asked excitedly.   
  
“I can’t complain, Penny. It’s so nice to see you. I hear the shop is doing well, still?” Skye asked.   
  
“Fortunately people still need potions,” she shrugged with a smile. “Do you think the season will go on this year?”   
  
“Well, if it doesn’t, Gwenog might finally snap. She is wound up so tightly right now that any bad news could send her off the edge,” Skye commented, eliciting a laugh from the group.   
  
“Well, it’s very hard to cheer against Wigtown, but I have to admit I’ve been a Harpies fan since you put on the robes. Please don’t tell your father!” Penny admitted.   
  
“I would never!” she said while giving Penny a smile.   
  
“Well, I won’t keep you. I promised Ben a dance before we head out.” she smiled again. “It’s truly so good to see you.”   
  
“You too, Penny.” Skye watched her walk away. Amanda excused herself to go talk to another friend of hers, leaving Skye alone at the table.   
  
Skye sighed. She turned around trying to locate Ginny Weasley so she could get this over with. Just then, a waiter came around and asked her what she would like to drink. She turned back and was about to reply when someone else did it for her.  
  
“Two firewhiskeys, both neat. Ogdens if you have it,” the witch said.   
  
Skye froze and looked up at the sound of her voice. Even a blind wizard would have agreed that Clara O’Connor looked incredible. She was wearing navy blue dress robes, her messy hair was no longer a wild tangle, but rather done up in a smooth, french braid. She gulped as the witch sat down. “Hi, Clara.”   
  
“Hi,” Clara responded.  
  
“How did you know what I wanted?”   
  
“I’m a legilimens, remember?” Clara smirked.   
  
“What? You didn’t?” Skye started to panic.  
  
“Of course not,” Clara said, “I just know your drink.”  
  
Skye took a sip, thankful that Clara wasn’t sifting through her thoughts right now. Not that Clara ever would, or ever did, but at this moment, sitting with Clara, she felt incredibly vulnerable.  
  
After a moment of silence, Clara picked up her drink and held it up to Skye. “To Bill?”   
  
Skye grabbed her own drink and tapped it against Clara’s. “To Bill,” she replied. They sat in silence for a moment.  
  
“It’s good to see you,” Clara began. “So, how are -” Clara was quickly cut off.   
  
“Hi!” came Amanda’s voice, “I’m Amanda.” She reached out to shake Clara’s hand.  
  
“Clara,” she replied, returning the handshake.   
  
“Not the Clara O’Connor? Curse-breaker and two-time Quidditch Cup champion.” Amanda said, impressed.   
  
Clara laughed, “The very same.” Skye noticed that she shifted in her seat, moving further away from Skye. “You’re Amanda McLaggen, right?”   
  
“Oh, wow. I’m flattered that you know who I am,” Amanda replied.   
  
“We met at the three Broomsticks, the night of Skye’s going away party,” Clara admitted. “Are you still working with the Harpies?”   
  
“I am! I can’t believe you remembered that,” Amanda said. “Wow, this girl’s amazing, don’t you think, Skye?” she asked her girlfriend.   
  
Skye nodded. She avoided looking at Clara and added, “Yes, she is.” She then took a big swig of her drink.   
  
“So, what do you do now, Clara?” Amanda asked, turning her attention back to Clara. Skye was starting to feel annoyed, watching her girlfriend flirt with Clara.   
  
“Honestly, not a whole lot.” Clara admitted. “I was working as a curse breaker but I just came off assignment and now I am looking for some new work. Time for a change I think.” Clara shrugged.   
  
Skye was shocked. She thought Clara loved her job, so why was she leaving it?  
  
“Why the change of career?” Amanda pressed, asking the question that Skye was desperate to know.  
  
Clara laughed, “I’m not entirely sure, it just didn’t feel right anymore,” she answered vaguely, her gaze fixated on her glass.   
  
Skye could tell she wasn’t being entirely truthful. She knew that face better than anything.   
  
Clara finished her drink and got up to leave. “Anyway, it was great to see you Skye and lovely to officially meet you Amanda,” she said. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” She smiled and then took her leave.   
  
Amanda turned to Skye, “See? I told you she could clean up if she was gay. She looks amazing.”   
  
Skye couldn’t have agreed more, but instead of answering, she finished her own drink. Ginny was surrounded again. Maybe she could go home and just tell Gwenog that there wasn’t an appropriate time to talk to her. She’d write her a letter in the morning and set up a meeting in Hogsmeade during the school year. Maybe she could even stop by a practice.   
  
Skye looked around again. No sign of Clara anywhere. This was her time to leave. “Hey Amanda,” she said, turning to her girlfriend, “I’m not feeling so well. Is it okay if I leave?”   
  
Amanda’s shoulders dropped. “Already? But the night is young!” she beamed.   
  
“I know, which is why you should stay,” she smiled and leaned closer, “come over in the morning and I’ll make up for it.” she winked.   
  
“Well, if you insist, Miss Parkin.” Amanda gave her a hug and then Skye slipped out of the marquee. She took a few steps before realizing her wand wasn’t in her pocket. While she was checking her bag for her wand when she heard a rustle beside her.   
  
“An Irish exit? Really?” Clara said, “I thought you Scots were better than us in that regard.”   
  
Skye turned around, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “Well, you did win the last Quidditch World Cup, so I’m just trying to learn from the best.”   
  
Clara laughed. “I am really happy to see you, Skye. I’m sorry if I made that uncomfortable.”   
  
She shook her head quickly. “No, of course not. No.” she stammered, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”   
  
“Amanda seems really nice.” Clara mentioned casually.   
  
“And Merula seems good, too.” Skye said back to her, a little more sharply than necessary.   
  
“Merula? I guess so. I haven’t seen her in over three years...” Clara trailed off and looked at her appraisingly. “Is everything okay?” She took a step towards her, touching her arm.   
  
Skye jumped back. “Don’t,” she said. “I can’t.”   
  
She quickly walked back up the path and didn’t even look back. She wanted to create as much distance as she could from Clara. As she reached the boundary, she steadied herself with a deep breath and then disapparated.   
  
\---


	6. The Wedding, Part 2

**Chapter 6: The Wedding, Part 2.** **  
** _  
August 1st, 1997 _ _   
_ **  
** “Is this okay?” Clara asked Penny, analysing her dress robes in the mirror. “It was all Madam Malkin had on short notice.”    
  
Penny walked over, appraised her. “It needs some work. Hold on, give me one second.” She grabbed a leather ribbon belt from her closet and tied Clara’s tunic back. She then performed a charm that hemmed the robes so that they fit her frame a lot better.    
  
“Best I can do, but I have to say, I did well,” Penny beamed. “You look like you are ready for a wedding and/or a battle. Very you.”    
  
Clara took a look at herself in the mirror. “Well, I haven’t looked this good in years. Thanks, Pen.” She grinned. “Nothing compares to you though, Penny. Whoever bailed on you made a big mistake!”    
  
“Honestly, it’s impossible to date these days…” she trailed off. “Which might be for the best. With everything going on, it’s hard to know who to trust.”    
  
Clara leaned up against the wardrobe and took a look at her friend and asked, “So things are really done with him?”   
  
Penny smiled sadly. “Yes. As much as I tried, he just won’t let himself be vulnerable. And two years later, I couldn’t do it anymore. He was never around when I needed him and he wouldn’t tell me a thing about anything.”    
  
“Was he the one who bailed as your date?” Clara asked.    
  
“No, it was someone else, someone unimportant. As for Talbott, I assume that he won’t be there today. Last time I spoke to him he was heading out on a dangerous assignment. We haven’t spoken since.” Her gaze drifted downward. “I think that could be why it was so difficult when you stopped writing too…”    
  
Clara hugged her friend. “I’m sorry, Penny. When I left, I thought I was doing it for the right reasons, but I didn’t think about the impact it would have on my friends.”    
  
“We all know that, Clara, I’m just happy you’re back now. Everyone is going to be so excited to see you.” Penny said, returning the hug tightly.   
  
Clara took another look in the mirror and sighed, “It does feel odd, being back,” she turned to Penny again, “I’ve missed so much.”   
  
“I think everyone will just be glad you’re back and you’re safe. Besides, we all are dying to know where you’ve been,” Penny began, “Is there something else, though, that’s weighing on you? Maybe a certain person?”    
  
“I think maybe I blew it with a certain person, I waited too long,” Clara admitted.    
  
“Never say never, Clara.” Penny smiled, “Now, we need to get a move on. It’s two o’clock and the wedding begins around three.”   
  
“How are we getting there?”    
  
“Apparating. There’s a spot in Ottery St. Catchpole that we can apparate to. We can do tag-along on the way.”    
  
“Perfect.”    
  
\---   
  
When they arrived at the Burrow, they were greeted by two identical faces that Clara and Penny knew well.   
  
“Fred! George!” Clara exclaimed, “I can’t believe it’s you two!”   
  
“Clara! Is that really you?” asked Fred, giving her a big hug. “   
  
“You mean to say, this is THE Clara O’Connor?” chimed in George, who looked exactly like his brother except, Clara noticed, that he was missing an ear.   
  
“George! What on earth happened to your ear!” Penny exclaimed, hitting him on the shoulder. “I just saw you at the shop last week!”   
  
“Oh it’s a thrilling tale -” George began.    
  
“Full of intrigue -” Fred interjected.    


“Danger-”    
  
“And of course-”    
  
“Death Eaters.”    
  
Penny gasped.   


“I have our dear Professor Snape to thank for that, ” George finished, pointing to his bandaged ear.    


“When did this happen?” Clara asked. “Order business?”    
  
Fred nodded. “It happened a few days ago. We were transporting a particularly special package from Surrey.”    
  
Clara nodded. “Understood. And is everyone…?”   
  
“Everyone made it safely…” George began.    
  
“Except Mad-Eye.” Fred finished.    
  
Clara was stunned. The same Mad-Eye who helped her uncover the secrets of ‘R’ and tracked down Madam Rakepick. The same Mad-Eye she worked with during her early days of training with Gringotts. She had always thought he was invincible.    
  
“I am so sorry to hear that,” Clara grasped George’s arm. “He was a good man. Absolute nutter, but an incredible wizard.”    
  
They nodded. “Now, let’s get you to your seats. We’ve got you seated behind us with Tonks and Remus.” Fred continued, leading the way.    
  
“Wonderful!” exclaimed Penny.    
  
“Most of the Order is here, as well,” George whispered to Clara. “Harry is the plump redhead over there,” he pointed to a boy that Clara assumed was a Weasley relative, “for tonight he’s our cousin Barny Weasley.”    
  
“Noted.”    
  
“Here you are ladies,” Fred said as they reached their seats. “Save a dance for me, won’t you!” he winked.    
  
They laughed and took their seats. Bill and Charlie caught sight of them from the front of the marquee and they all waved enthusiastically. Turning back to Penny, Clara asked, “Seems odd, doesn’t it?”   
  
“What does?” Penny answered.    
  
“To have a wedding at this time, with everything going on,” Clara explained.    
  
“Maybe that’s the best reason to have it, though, the world needs more love.” Penny shrugged, “Why wait to tell someone you love them.”    
  
“I think you might be onto something, Penny.” Clara agreed. She turned to look back at the crowd that was slowly filing into the marquee, wondering if she would ever find what Bill did. Her job didn’t really allow for much dating, not that she minded. Maybe now that she was done she would have more freedom to explore that side of her life. But truth be told, she hadn’t met anyone in the last three years that had her thinking about long-term commitments… however she had been on an isolating assignment… though she had had some fun.    
  
While she was ruminating over her past romantic failures, Penny gripped her arm tightly. “What?” she hissed. Penny tilted her head towards the back of the marquee, indicating that she should look.    
  
She turned, and her heart dropped. Because standing there, with another girl that looked vaguely familiar, was Skye Parkin.   
  
\---   
  
Skye Parkin. Clara turned back around suddenly.    
  
_ What is she doing here? _ Clara thought to herself.    
  
“Did you know she was coming?” Penny asked.   
  
“I haven’t talked to her in over two years.” Clara said, bluntly.    
  
_ When was the last time I saw her, _ she thought, _ it was Scotland in the Spring of 1995.  _ _   
_ _   
_ “Wotcher! Clara!” a familiar voice cut into her daydream. “I cannot believe you are here!” 

“Tonks!” She got up and hugged her friend. “I almost didn’t recognize you with such dull hair,” she winked.

“Well, I’m married now, I thought maybe it’s time to grow up,” she said plainly.

Clara was not convinced. “Oh is that so?”

Tonks laughed. “Oh you see right through me. I’m trying to not draw as much attention to myself. There’s a lot of people with very anti-werewolf sentiments and it’s best to remain as low profile as we can,” she admitted solemnly. 

Clara gave her a sad smile. “I completely understand. Will you sit with us?”

“Yes of course, let me just go and grab Remus and we will come back. Can’t believe you’re here, O’Connor. Bloody brilliant!” She ran off.

Clara turned back to Penny. “Still the same Tonks, under that hair. Some things don’t change, do they?”

Penny nodded. “She’s been coming to the shop a lot, lately. She asked me to brew a big batch of Wolfsbane Potion the other day. I think they’re getting nervous.”

Clara looked at her. “I don’t blame them. She’s a half-blood who married a werewolf. Her family is already exiled from a prominent pure blood family and now she put another target on her back.”   


“She’s pregnant, too,” Penny added.

“Wait, seriously?” Clara asked. 

“Yes. She told me two weeks ago when she was in the shop,” Penny confirmed. 

Clara turned her gaze back to the front of the marquee. “It’s madness. Weddings, babies… during times like this.” She shook her head.

“Would you ever get married and have children?” Penny asked.

“I don’t know, Penny, it’d be tricky, not sure if that’s even legal. Besides, I would need to meet the right person.” 

“Maybe you already have,” Penny teased. 

She laughed, but before she could answer, she felt a tap on her shoulder. 

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Clara turned around and saw Merula, looking incredibly sharp in a set of black dress robes.

“Good to see you too, Merula,” Clara answered, avoiding her gaze. 

“Hi Merula, nice to see you!”Penny beamed.

“Hi Penny. You look great,” Merula said, before adding, “I’ll be in the shop next week. Peterson needs a shipment of calming draught for the next expedition.”

“I look forward to it. Are you sitting with us?” Penny asked. 

“I think so. A pudgy redhead brought me here. I swear there are more Weasleys appearing every day,” she scoffed.

“That was Harry Potter.” Clara stated matter-of-factually. 

“What?” Penny and Merula said in unison.

“Polyjuice potion. They’re keeping him hidden.”

“Smart plan,” Merula nodded. “Who let it slip?”

“The twins. Well George.”

Merula nodded. Just then Tonks returned to their seats. 

“It’s about to begin,” Tonks started, “Ten galleons says Molly cries first.”

“I’ll take that action,” Merula said. “I say Fleur’s mother.”

“Fleur’s father looks emotional,” Clara added, “my bet’s on him.”

“My money’s on Bill, once he sees her.” Penny added.

_ It’s good to be back,  _ Clara thought to herself with a huge grin. 

—-   
  
After the ceremony had ended, and Tonks collected her winnings with a smile, the guests were asked to stand while the tufty-haired wizard conjured a dance floor and tables out of thin air. She and Penny took their seats with Merula and Ben (who had arrived a bit late and was seated near the back).

Dinner was served and drinks were flowing. Clara, who had not been to many weddings before, had to admit that it was a beautiful affair. She had come to terms with the fact that she likely would never have this, but the idea of celebrating her happiness with her friends and family seemed suddenly idyllic. 

As the night went on, her eyes kept moving back to Skye’s table. She had figured out who the girl she was with was and she could only assume she was her girlfriend, otherwise why would Skye be here. Even though they were being discrete (Skye’s idea she presumed) it wasn’t hard to tell by the way she looked at Skye… Clara wondered if anyone noticed that she was staring at them. 

She sighed, and returned to the conversation at her table about the current state of affairs.

“It’s getting worse and worse at the Ministry, too,” Ben said, “I am not so sure I’ll have a job once they check my blood status. I honestly may have to go on the run.”

“We won’t let that happen, Ben,” Penny said.

“You know where to go if you do, Copper,” Merula added.

“What about you, Clara? Back to Norway or a desk job?” Ben asked.

“Neither, actually,” she began, “I’m leaving Gringotts.”   
  
Ben stared at her. “You’re joking, right?” he asked.    
  
“No, I’m not. It was time to make a change,” Clara answered.    
  
“No. You can’t leave us, not now,” he said, turning to Merula, “did you know about this?”    
  
Merula nodded. “I had my suspicions.”    
  
“Merula, we can’t let her leave.”    
  
“Let me?” Clara asked.    
  
“Well, you know what I mean. We need you, Clara. You’re one of our best curse-breakers, you should hear what they say about you in the office.”    
  
“It’s not like school, Copper, this is O’Connor’s life. She needs a change, no better time to do it. Who knows what’s going to happen in the next few months,” Merula commented.    
  
Clara gave her a grateful look to which she gave a nod.    
  
“I was surprised too, Ben, but Clara seemed pretty set,” Penny added before getting up and heading over to chat with someone.    
  
“But, but…” Ben stammered.    
  
“It’s done, Ben. It’s time for me to move on,” Clara said.    
  
“But to what?” he asked, sternly.    
  
Clara looked at Merula, who gave her a quick glance. “I’ll tell you all another time. We can’t talk about it here.”    
  
They turned their gaze back to the dance floor where the twins were trying to woo some of Fleur’s cousins. Her gaze shifted back to Skye’s table, where she and Amanda were now talking to Penny.    
  
“Merula, do you want to dance?” Ben asked.    
  
“Absolutely not, Copper.” Merula retorted, eliciting a laugh from all of them.    
  
“Excuse me a moment,” Clara said before getting up and walking over to Skye’s table where she was now sitting alone.    
  
The waiter was asking Skye what she wanted to drink and before she could stop herself, Clara said, “Two firewhiskeys, both neat. Ogdens if you have it.”    
  
Skye looked up at her, and said “Hi, Clara.”    
  
Clara’s breath caught in her throat. “Hi,” she responded breathlessly. Skye looked amazing and it was hard for her to make eye contact with her.    
  
“How did you know what I wanted?” Skye asked, suspiciously.    
  
“I’m a legilimens, remember?” Clara said, trying to make a joke.    
  
“What? You didn’t?” Skye said.    
  
“Of course not,” Clara scrambled, “I just know your drink,” she finished rather lamely.    
  
They took a sip of their drinks in silence, before Clara picked up her drink and held it up to Skye. “To Bill?” 

Skye grabbed her own drink and tapped it against Clara’s. “To Bill,” she replied.   
  
Clara looked over at her, trying to find the words to bridge the gap, “It’s good to see you,” Clara began. “So, how are -” Clara was quickly cut off.    
  
“Hi!” came Amanda’s voice, “I’m Amanda.” She reached out to shake Clara’s hand.   
  
“Clara,” she replied, returning the handshake and moving slightly further from the pair of them.    
  
“Not the Clara O’Connor? Curse-breaker and two-time Quidditch Cup champion.” Amanda said, impressed.    
  
Clara laughed, “The very same. You’re Amanda McLaggen, right?”    
  
“Oh, wow. I’m flattered that you know who I am,” Amanda replied, beaming at her.    
  
“We met at the three Broomsticks, the night of Skye’s going away party,” Clara admitted. “Are you still working with the Harpies?”    
  
“I am! I can’t believe you remembered that,” Amanda said. “Wow, this girl’s amazing, don’t you think, Skye?” she asked her girlfriend.    
  
Clara saw Skye nod and avert her gaze. She also thought she heard Skye mumble something but couldn’t discern it before Amanda continued asking questions.    
  
“So, what do you do now, Clara?” Amanda asked.    
  
“Honestly, not a whole lot now.” Clara said, shrugging. “I was working as a curse breaker but I just came off assignment and now I am looking for some new work. Time for a change I think.” Clara shrugged.    
  
Clara saw Skye’s expression change. It was a questioning look, almost pleading for an answer.    
  
“Why the change of career?” Amanda pressed.   
  
Clara laughed, “I’m not entirely sure, it just didn’t feel right anymore,” she answered vaguely, her gaze fixated on her glass.  _ None of this feels right, _ she admitted to herself.    
  
Skye was giving her that look, the one she remembered well. She knew she was lying.    
  
Clara finished her drink and got up to leave. “Anyway, it was great to see you Skye and lovely to officially meet you Amanda,” she said. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” She smiled and then took her leave.    
  
She returned to her table and Penny gave her a sad smile. “I should have warned you. I didn’t realize they would be here.”    
  
“Oh don’t worry about that, Penny, I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?” Clara asked. “I just want her to be happy.” She took another drink. “Maybe I need some fresh air. Also Ben,” she began, turning to her friend, “will you please ask this lovely lady to dance before she turns into a pumpkin?” she teased, pointing to Penny.    
  
“Come on Penny, let’s go,” Ben beamed as she got up to join him.    
  
Turning back to Merula, Clara asked. “Need some air?”    
  
“Desperately.”    
  
She followed Clara to the outskirts of the marquee, the sound of the music was deafened slightly so they could actually talk.    
  
“So, have you read the letter?” Merula asked.    
  
“I have. What do you think about it?”    
  
“He predicted it then, before he died. Harry is the only hope we have once the Ministry falls. And even then, how well do we think a 17-year old boy can do against the Dark Lord,” Merula stated.    
  
“I certainly don’t like the chances, but we need to focus on the task he gave us.” Clara said. “We need to start soon, I just have some things I need to take care of first.”    
  
“Irish things?”    
  
“Exactly.”    
  
“Well, you know where to find me.” Merula finished. “I’m going to head back in, so as to not rouse suspicion.”    
  
Clara nodded and watched her go. Even after all of these years, they still were able to understand each other with little explanation. And this task… it would require a lot of trust. She hoped they were up to it.    
  
She took a deep breath and was about to head back in but then she saw Skye lurking by the edge of the tent herself. She looked as though she was leaving.    
  
“An Irish exit? Really?” Clara said in jest, “I thought you Scots were better than us in that regard.”

Skye turned around and shot back, “Well, you did win the last Quidditch World Cup, so I’m just trying to learn from the best.”

Clara laughed. “I am really happy to see you, Skye. I’m sorry if I made that uncomfortable.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, of course not. No, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Amanda seems really nice.” Clara mentioned casually.

“And Merula seems good, too.” Skye said back to her, coolly. 

“Merula? I guess so. I haven’t seen her in over three years...” Clara trailed off, noticing a shift in Skye's demeanor. “Is everything okay?” She took a step towards her, touching her arm.

Skye jumped back. “Don’t,” she said. “I can’t.”  
  
Skye quickly walked away from her, back up the path and she didn’t even look back once.    
  
_ I ruined it, again. How do I manage to do this every time…  _ Clara thought to herself before heading back in to find her friends.    
  
\---   



	7. Snyde Manor

**Chapter 7: Snyde Manor** **  
** _  
August 1st, 1997_ _  
_ _  
_Clara sat back down at the table, her eyes drifted to the dance floor where Ben was trying to twirl Penny, who looked as though she was just trying to stay on her feet. So much had changed, and yet, she felt better looking out and seeing her friends again.  
  
“Miss O’Connor,” came a voice behind her, “may I sit?” Clara looked up and saw Remus Lupin.   
  
“By all means,” Clara said, “please sit. How are you doing, Mr. Lupin?”  
  
“Please, Clara, call me Remus. I am married to your friend after all, and I believe we may be working together soon,” Remus said.   
  
Clara looked at him, wondering what he meant.   
  
“Dumbledore gave me some tasks too,” he said, answering her silent question. “We’ll be in contact soon, but we have some items we need to take care of before we start.”   
  
“I have some things I need to figure out as well,” Clara admitted.   
  
“You know, I haven’t seen you since we helped Miss Lobosca with her, what did you call it? Her furry little problem?” he laughed.   
  
Clara chucked, “Yes, I was one of the few that knew then.”  
  
“Have you talked to her since leaving Hogwarts?” Remus asked.   
  
“In the beginning, yes, but unfortunately once I started with Gringotts, I threw myself into work,” Clara confessed. “I do know she’s working in Wales though.”   
  
“Good. We’ll have to connect with her too. Fortunately not a lot of people know, so they won’t go after her first,” Remus said.   
  
Clara nodded.  
  
“Can you get to her, Clara?” he asked seriously.   
  
She looked over at him, “I think I can,” she said.   
  
“Good.”   
  
They looked back at the dance floor. “So, you and Tonks?”  
  
He laughed, “I can’t explain it. I tried to tell her that I was too old, too dangerous, too, well… me. But she wouldn’t listen.” He sighed, “I think if we weren’t on the brink of war, I would feel better about it, but given the circumstances…” he trailed off.   
  
Clara knew better not to press him on the subject. She was about to turn to ask him another question when something large and silver came falling through the opening in the canopy over the dance floor. It gleamed and moved gracefully and as it landed lightly in the middle of the astonished dancers, Clara saw that it was a Patronus in the form of a lynx. Heads turned, as those nearest it froze mid-dance. Then the Patronus's mouth opened wide and it spoke in a loud, deep, slow voice that Clara thought she recognized as Kingsley Shacklebolt’s.  
  
 _"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_ _  
_  
Many people were only just realizing that something strange had happened; heads were still turning toward the silver cat as it vanished. Silence spread outward in cold ripples from the place where the Patronus had landed. Then somebody screamed.  
  
Clara jumped to her feet. Chaos surrounded her, people were panicking, and then cloaked and masked figures appearing in the crowd. She saw Tonks and Remus casting protective spells, Bill and Charlie back to back casting spells into the crowd, people were disapparating around her. She felt someone grab her and pull her out of the way of a red light.   
  
“O’Connor, we need to get out of here,” Merula said, pulling her close.   
  
“Ben? Penny?” Clara demanded, looking directly into her eyes. “Where are they?” Just then another red light whizzed past and Clara pulled them out of the way.   
  
“Thanks,” Merula stated.   
  
“Don’t mention it.”   
  
Clara cast a protective spell and barged through the ground. She spotted Ben and Penny fighting off a Death Eater. She launched another spell at them, blasting him out of the way. She grabbed the two of them.  
  
“Clara! GO!” Penny said, “I’ll take Ben. GO NOW!” She turned and disapparated.   
  
Merula grabbed her arm again. “Trust me,” she said.   
  
Then Clara felt her turn on the spot; all sights and sounds were extinguished, darkness pressed in upon her; she felt Merula’s hand on her arm and then she was squeezed through space and time, away from the Burrow, away from the Death Eaters, away from the chaos…   
  
Clara opened her eyes. She was standing in front of a giant hedge. _Where the hell am I?_ She thought.   
  
“Welcome to Snyde Manor,” Merula said dryly.  
  
“Penny, Ben… I should have gone with them,” Clara said weakly.   
  
“No, this is better. They likely know you were in Hogsmeade last week. You are much more of a target than Penny. It’s likely they don’t even know Ben would be with him.” She sighed, “Go back tomorrow, but for now, you’re safest here.”   
  
Clara nodded and followed Merula through the gate. It was an incredible house that would not have been out of place during the Victorian era.   
  
“So, this is where it all happened, eh?” Clara asked.   
  
“Where what happened?” Merula shot back.   
  
“This,” Clara pointed at her, laughing.   
  
Merula rolled her eyes. “Come on, before anyone sees us. We have a lot to discuss.”   
  
\---  
 _  
May 7th, 1997_ _  
_ _  
_ _Dear Miss O’Connor,_ _  
_ _  
_ _I am sending you this letter as I fear that the time may come where I may not be able to correspond with you further._ _  
_ _  
_ _As per our last letter, I mentioned that there is something I may need you to do. The time has come for that. I have been in communication with Miss Snyde as well, with the hopes that the two of you can help each other with_ _what shall come.  
_ _  
_ _When the time comes that I cannot reach you, I will leave everything you need with the bartender of the Hogs Head Inn._ _  
_ _  
_ _Yours in haste,_ _  
_ _  
_ _Albus Dumbledore_ _  
_ _  
_\---  
  
“So, the letter he left with Aberforth, did he outline what he wanted you to do?” Merula asked.   
  
“Yes. Part of it has to do with recruiting, and protecting, werewolves. Remus was asking me about Chiara too.” Clara said.  
  
“Lobosca? Yes. You’ll need to get to her right away before they do.”  
  
Clara nodded and then said, “The other part was much more dangerous.”   
  
“More dangerous than werewolves?” Merula laughed.   
  
“Much more. Dangerous creatures that are dangerous every day of the month,” Clara said plainly.   
  
“Ah, understood.”   
  
Clara looked around the dining room, taking in the ornate furnishings and the beautifully painted portraits hanging on the walls. Clara got up to examine them further, “Are these your parents?” she asked, pointing at the largest painting of two scowling figures.   
  
She shot a look at the painting and scoffed. “Unfortunately. Dearest Mummy and Daddy.”   
  
“I see the resemblance,” Clara teased.   
  
Merula rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’re so annoying. It's nice to have some consistency back in my life.”   
  
Clara gave her a smile and turned back to the paintings. “So, what has he asked you to do?”   
  
“Something similar, but using my unique position.”  
  
“Your unique position?” Clara asked.   
  
“This.” Merula said, waving her hand around the room, “My name, my family.”   
  
They looked at each other for a moment and then Clara realized, “He asked you to become a spy."  
  
“Yes,” Merula stated.   
  
“From within?” Clara asked, seriously.   
  
She nodded. “Yes.”  
  
Clara looked at her. “You don’t have to do this.”   
  
Merula gave her a determined look. “I gave him my word that I would try.”   
  
“But it’s dangerous,” Clara protested.   
  
Merula laughed, “Everything we’ve done in the past thirteen years has been dangerous, O’Connor. Our jobs are literally the most dangerous jobs we could have picked.”   
  
Clara stood her ground. “This is different.”   
  
“How is this different?”   
  
“Because it’s pretending to be part of his circle, pretending to believe in what they believe in, hurting people, and…” Clara shook her head.   
  
“I would never. I just have to fake it. It’s pretend,” Merula began.   
  
“But is it? Because how could you even consider doing this?” Clara yelled back. She was suddenly on her feet.  
  
“I don’t want to do any of that, I won’t do any of that. You know how I feel about it.” Merula said coolly. “I’m not like them.”  
  
“But why do you need to do this?”   
  
“You’re such a hypocrite, you’re doing something just as dangerous!” Merula yelled, she had joined Clara and was on her feet too.   
  
“That’s different, Merula, it’s just different.” Clara shouted.   
  
“How?” she exclaimed. “How is this different?”  
  
“Because you could be murdered!” Clara yelled. “You could be tortured, you could be… you could be taken from us. And for what?”   
  
Merula sighed, and dropped her shoulders. “What do I have to lose, O’Connor?”   
  
Clara looked up, stunned. “What do you mean?”   
  
“I have a family I don’t speak to, who would curse me into oblivion if they knew I stepped foot in this place again. And my only real friend is in this room right now, ” Merula sighed.   
  
“Merula, that’s not true.”   
  
“It is, O’Connor. That’s why he picked me. He knew it wouldn’t be hard for me to make this decision.”   
  
“I don’t understand any of this, Merula. Why are you telling me all of this?”   
  
“Because you’re the only person I truly trust, Clara,” she stated. “I cannot do this unless someone can pull me back out. I think that’s why Dumbledore told me you were coming back, because he knew I’d need a tether. He knew that you’d be my tether, you have to pull me back when the time is right, can you promise me that you will?” Merula asked.   
  
Clara gave her a long look. “Merula, I…”   
  
“Clara, promise me.” It wasn’t a question this time.   
  
“I promise.”   
  
\---  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely took some words directly from she-who-shall-not-be-named regarding Kingsley's patronus. But, I wanted that moment to seem just like the way we see it in Deathly Hallows. Pure chaos. 
> 
> I seriously don't know how I want this story to end.. so maybe it won't haha. 
> 
> Cheers!


	8. Chiara's Confession

**Chapter 8: Chiara's Confession** **  
** August 2nd, 1997   
_ Holyhead, Wales _ **  
** **  
**   
“What do you mean, you didn’t talk to her?” Gwenog yelled at her. “I gave you one job, as assistant captain, and you can’t even come through for us.”    
  
“I’m sorry, Gwenog, I couldn’t find an appropriate time. They were busy the entire time, right up until the end of the night.”    
  
“Really? Busy until the end of the night?”   
  
“Yes,” she said.    
  
“Funny you mention that. The end of the night must have been scary though, no?” Gwenog said.    
  
“Umm, not particularly. It was a lovely evening.”    
  
Gwenog stared at her with a look that could have set Skye’s robes on fire. “Get the hell out of my office, Parkin. You’re dismissed for today.”    
  
“Gwenog, I -”   
  
“Parkin. Go home.”    
  
Skye’s shoulders dropped in defeat and she turned out of the office. Stomping her way onto the grounds she ran headlong into Erika Rath.    
  
“Parkin, why the long face?” came Rath’s voice.    
  
“Gwenog sent me home. She’s pissed that I didn’t talk to the Weasley kid last night,” Skye admitted.   
  
“Well, I mean, she couldn’t have expected you to get a conversation in with what happened. I’m sure she’s just glad you’re okay.”    
  
Skye looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked.    
  
Rath looked at her. “What do you mean, what do I mean? The bloody Death Eaters, Skye. Weren’t you terrified? How did you get out of there?”    
  
“Oh bloody hell. That must be why she’s so mad,” Skye said. “Oh, how could I be so stupid. I left early. I basically left right after they cut the cake, didn’t even try to talk to Ginny, she was busy talking to Viktor Krum when I left,” Skye admitted.    
  
“I mean, I wouldn’t say it was totally stupid, you left before it got dangerous,” Rath said, shrugging.    
  
“I suppose, not that Gwenog would care about that though,” Skye laughed despite herself. “I shouldn’t have left.”    
  
“Why did you, Skye? You know how badly Gwenog wants the kid. What on earth could have been more important?” Rath asked.    
  
“I saw Clara.”    
  
“Oh.”    
  
\---   
  
Skye left the training grounds and decided to head to Amanda’s apartment to check on her. It was incredibly strange that she didn’t come see her after the wedding considering the magnitude of what had happened. She turned on her heel and apparated with a pop in the alley behind the cafe. She ran up Amanda’s stairs and knocked. After a moment, she pressed her ear to the door and couldn’t hear anything going on inside. She knocked again and called her name. Still nothing.  _ That’s odd,  _ Skye thought to herself. She waited another moment and then conceded that Amanda wasn’t home. She walked back down the stairs and then popped into the cafe to grab a coffee before heading home.    
  
As she walked back to her apartment, her mind wandered to Clara… Clara in those blue dress robes…  _ Stop it,  _ she thought to herself,  _ stop thinking about her.  _ _   
_ _   
_ Arriving back at her place, she stormed up the stairs, quickly opened the door with her wand and pushed it open. She tossed her bag on the table without thinking and accidentally shattered a decorative vase her mother sent her. Sighing, she took out her wand again and fixed the vase.    
  
She knew that she had no reason to be mad at Gwenog; in fact, Gwenog had every right to be upset with her. But where was Amanda? Why didn’t she come over immediately and tell her what happened? Did she leave early too? More importantly, was everyone okay?   
  
Her mind began to wander again and she shook her head;  _ stop thinking about her,  _ she told herself,  _ it’s Clara, she’s probably fine.  _ _   
_ _   
_ She sighed and then, to distract herself, grabbed a piece of parchment to write a letter to Ginny Weasley. She messed up at the wedding but she could at least try to make up for it. She began writing about the team, what Holyhead has to offer, and what their plan would be for Ginny if she chose to come to Holyhead. Just as she was finishing up, there came a knock on her door.    
  
She got up quickly and wrenched it open. “Amanda?” she said as the door swung open.    
  
“No, unfortunately, just me,” came a voice she knew well hidden behind a brown paper bag, “But good news, I have treats.”   
  
“Oh Chiara! Come in, come in.” Skye said, ushering her best friend. “How did you know I was home?”    
  
“I ran into Erika; she said Gwenog dismissed you and that you probably needed a friend, so I skipped out for lunch.” Chiara laughed as she took a seat at the kitchen counter. “She’s really getting better at this friendship thing.”    
  
“Only took four years,” Skye laughed. “Did she tell you what happened?”    
  
“A little, but she was on her way to the scrimmage. I also heard about the attack in the clinic this morning; selfishly I am glad you did leave early,” Chiara admitted, taking a bite of one of the scones she brought. “But, are you okay?”   
  
Skye shrugged, “I don’t know right now. I have no idea where Amanda is.”   
  
“Well I can help you there, she sent a note to the clinic,” Chiara said, “she had to go see her mother. She didn’t tell you?”    
  
“No, she didn’t.” Skye took a sip of her coffee which had gone cold. “It doesn’t matter, I’m just relieved that she’s safe.”    
  
Chiara gave her another look, “Are you really okay?”    
  
Skye didn't even look up. “You’re talking about Clara, right?”  she asked.   
  
Chiara nodded.    
  
“Honestly, I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting to see her,” Skye admitted.    
  
“When was the last time you saw her?” Chiara asked.    
  
“I’m not entirely sure, few years at least," she lied.    
  
Chiara gave her a knowing look but didn’t press her on the issue which Skye was grateful for.    
  
“There is something I need to tell you though, Skye,” Chiara said.   
  
“Yes?”    
  
“I got a letter from Clara. This morning,” Chiara confessed.    
  
Skye was stunned. “You did? But you two haven’t talked in… well, longer than she and I have.” Skye sputtered.    
  
“I know. I was shocked too,” Chiara stated.    
  
“Why did she contact you?” Skye asked, nervous about the answer.    
  
“She said she couldn’t tell me in a letter,” Chiara began, “but Skye, she’s coming to Wales to see me, this week.”    
  
_Shit._  
  
\---  
  
Later that evening, Skye sat by the fire in her apartment, reading the latest quidditch news in the Daily Prophet. By looking at the newspaper, there would be no way of knowing that the Ministry had been taken over by He Who Must Not Be Named. She thought it was odd, but she assumed that they were trying not to cause mass panic and subsequently, mass resistance.   
  
Moments like these she thought about how sheltered and privileged she really was, sitting in her flat, thinking about quidditch while the rest of Great Britain was changing around her. Would a season even happen at this rate? Should she run back to Wigtown and hide out? Was she even a target? What was she doing here, sitting by her fire, when the rest of the country was in dire circumstances?   
  
As she pondered this, the fire in the grate turned bright green and Amanda’s face appeared amidst the flames.   
  
“Skye! I was hoping you were here,” she said.   
  
“Amanda, oh thank Merlin, I’m so glad you’re okay.” Skye said, getting down on the floor to speak with her.   
  
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, love. I actually left shortly after you did and decided to go see my mother after the wedding. I didn’t find out about the attack until this morning.” Amanda admitted.   
  
“You and me both. Gwenog tore a strip off of me in the office,” Skye laughed. “But you promise you’re okay? And everyone else?”   
  
“Yes, love, I’m fine, I promise. And as for the others, I heard that everyone is okay but they are being watched.”  
  
“Bloody hell.” Skye whispered.   
  
“It’s happening, Skye. What everyone has been saying. The Prophet isn’t reporting it because he has control over it now. But… You-Know-Who has taken over the Ministry.”   
  
Skye stared at her girlfriend in the flames. “I know, Mandy. It’s terrible.” She began, “It’s actually got me thinking, maybe I need to-”  
  
Amanda cut her off, “I’m so sorry, Skye. I have to run. I’ll be back in a few days though. Talk soon.” And just like that she was gone.   
  
“Maybe I need to do something more,” she finished out loud, to herself.   
  
She sighed and sunk back into the armchair. She summoned a glass and the bottle of Ogden’s that she stored on the counter; she poured herself a drink and took a look around. Her eyes fell on the picture that she displayed on her mantle which showed seven scarlet and gold clad teenagers, clinging onto the Quidditch Cup. She had very few memories that were as bright as that one. The entire day was magical, really. _Except for Clara getting knocked out, but that was just a regular occurrence really_ , she thought to herself, chuckling.   
  
She got up and examined the photo a little closer - for the past two years, Skye and Clara in the photo would shoot furtive glances at each other while the other wasn’t looking. Truthfully, she always hoped no one would notice that, but now, photo Clara was staring directly at her, as though she was waiting for something to happen. _It's just a trick of the light,_ Skye said internally, _or maybe I'm just tired._ She moved away from the photo to sink back into the chair once more when she heard a tap tap tap on the window pane.   
  
She pulled the window open and it revealed an owl that looked quite familiar. She undid the small scroll from it's leg and let it nibble her finger affectionately. Unrolling the scroll to read the letter, Skye saw only one line:   
  
_The Harbour. Wednesday. Five o'clock in the morning.  
  
  
What on earth, _thought Skye. "Who sent me this?" she asked the owl, feeling extremely silly as the words came out of her mouth. But the owl must have understood because it nudged the paper over to reveal a single, inked paw print on the back side.   
  
Skye sighed in realization. C _lara._  
  
\---  
  



	9. The Mission

**Chapter 9: The Mission** **  
** _  
June 24th, 1997 _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Miss O’Connor,  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ By the time you will have retrieved this letter, I will be gone. I trust that you understand it was not my wish to die, but when you are as old as I am, death is inevitable, even for me.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Upon my death, the only hope for the wizarding world rests on the shoulders of a soon to be seventeen year old boy. I have armed Mr. Potter with as much knowledge and understanding as I could in this short period of time to prepare him for what is to come. But it is up to the rest of you to protect him and to provide him with all the help you can offer. The tasks I ask of you will not be easy, and they will be extremely dangerous, but I believe that you can handle it. _

_ First, you need to speak with Remus Lupin regarding the tracking and the protection of werewolves. Lord Voldemort will want to weaponize them, and if they won’t join him, he will attempt to eradicate them. You have a particular talent that the Ministry, and more importantly the Death Eaters, don’t know about that will prove to be beneficial in this role.  _

_ Secondly, up to this point, the giants have not responded positively to our attempts to sway them. Lord Voldemort will have promised them something that he will not give them. Again, he will weaponize them or destroy them. If not both. So we need to prepare for the inevitable - he will have giants on his side and we need to be ready for that. _

_ Lastly, I need you to work with Miss Snyde. I have asked her to do something that will put her in extreme danger. Your proficiency as a legilimens is essential for this. She will explain everything to you when the time comes.  _

_ I only regret that I could not tell you this in person. I have seen you grow from a timid first year who wanted to prove herself and shed a reputation that was undeserved, to a determined young witch who would face more danger in her short life than most grown wizards. I have the utmost faith in you and your abilities and I know that you will play a crucial role in this.  _

_ Stay vigilant, and remember to trust in your friends.   
  
_

_ Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore   
  
_ \---   
  
Clara sat in the drawing room of Snyde Manor reading Dumbledore’s last words to her over and over again. It was somewhat clear what the mission would be, but what was not clear was how she was supposed to accomplish it. She would start with sending a letter to Chiara to go see her as per Remus’s advice, but since he didn’t give her any further instructions she would have to find him too. Dumbledore was correct, however, her special skill would come in handy, especially during a full moon, which by her calculations would happen in two weeks.    
  
She sighed and pulled out the photo again, repeating her routine once more. She closed her eyes and sunk back into the chair, her mind wandering once more. As she sat there she didn’t hear Merula enter. “Have you eaten?” she asked Clara.    
  
Clara looked up and hastily put the picture away. “Oh, no, I guess I haven’t,” she replied.    
  
“Here,” Merula passed her a plate with toast and eggs. “Eat.”    
  
“Did you make this?” Clara asked.    
  
“Well don’t look surprised,” Merula shrugged, “I have managed to survive all these years somehow.”   
  
“Cheers,” Clara said before taking a bite.    
  
“So, what’s the plan, O’Connor,” Merula asked, taking a sip of her tea. “Ireland or Wales.”    
  
“Wales?” Clara said.    
  
“Lobosca,” Merula reminded her.    
  
“Right. Yes.” Clara answered. “I should contact her right away.”    
  
“Parchment and quills are on the desk by the window,” Merula said, gesturing to the wooden bureau, “You can borrow one of the owls. Just a warning, they all like to nibble.”    
  
Clara laughed, “Fantastic, thank you.” She got up and walked towards the desk. “Merula,” she began tentatively, "what happened to your parents?”    
  
Merula didn’t look up from her tea, “I don’t know,” she answered.    
  
“As in?” Clara pressed.    
  
“As in, I actually don’t know. One letter I received said they died in Azkaban, another report I read said there was a mass breakout prior to their supposed death.” She got up and walked to the window. “So, I don’t know what to believe now.”    
  
“Merula, if they’re alive, can they come back here,” Clara asked seriously.    
  
“I thought of that, don’t worry. When I got the letter that they died, I changed the deed to my name. So, they know where the house is, but they won’t be able to get in as I am the secret keeper now.” Merula stated.    
  
Clara nodded. “If they have gone, I’m sorry. It must be hard not knowing.”    
  
Merula’s demeanor quickly changed, “Honestly I don’t care either way. I grew up without them and I certainly don’t need them now.” She took a look at Clara and realized the sharp tone, “I don’t mean to be rude, but my parents whereabouts are not high on my list of priorities.”    
  
“I understand.” Clara said before changing the subject, “So, what is the priority then?”    
  
Merula seemed thankful for the switch. “I have to go meet with a contact of mine, preferably this evening.”    
  
“Alone?”   
  
“No question.”    
  
“So why do you need me,” Clara questioned.    
  
“I told you,” Merula said.    
  
“But you haven’t told me anything, really,” Clara said, vocalizing her frustration.    
  
“What are you on about?” Merula asked.    
  
“Look,” Clara said, pushing the parchment towards Merula, “he says you will explain everything to me when the time comes.”    
  
“The time hasn’t come yet, O’Connor,” Merula stated plainly, and then upon seeing the look on Clara’s face added, “the less you know the better, for now.”    
  
Clara shook her head, “This is mad. I don’t understand why you can’t tell me.”    
  
Merula laughed, “You’re telling me that Johnson never sent you on a mission that you didn’t know the full details to? That whole time you were in Norway, you’re telling me you had all the details?”    
  
“Point taken,” Clara conceded.    
  
“Write your letter. I’ll go grab an owl,” Merula said and got up to leave, “I will need to leave soon.”    
  
Clara nodded and pulled the parchment towards her.    
  
  
_ Chiara,  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I wish I was writing to you in better circumstances and during normal times this wouldn’t be the way I come to see you but I believe it is imperative that I do.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Can you meet me on Wednesday? You don’t need to answer as I will come to you. I can’t divulge anything in the letter but I will explain when I see you.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Stay safe, stay well.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Clara _ _   
_ _   
_ _   
_ She softly blew on the ink, urging it to dry quickly, and then rolled the parchment into a small scroll. She was gambling that by Wednesday she would have information from Remus. She pulled out another piece and wrote another quick note, this time to Tonks.    
  
  
_ Tonks,  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I know you must have gone to ground, but please send a note back to me if it is safe for me to visit. I need to speak with a certain someone about his furry little problem.  _ _   
_ _   
_   
Clara paused. It would be too dangerous to sign her name but she needed Tonks to know it was her. She fiddled with the quill, and then the ring on her finger…  _ The ring!  _ She thought to herself and returned to the letter and signed:  _   
_ _   
_ _  
Infinite, Unbroken, Forever.  _ _   
_   
  
Satisfied with the letter, she rolled it up and placed it beside the letter for Chiara. Then, without really thinking, she grabbed a third piece and scribbled another quick note. After she finished, she turned it over, quickly transformed and placed an ink covered paw print square on the back of the letter.   
  
\---   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who or what is the photograph of? All will be revealed.. but not anytime soon ;) 
> 
> Cheers!


	10. The Meeting

**Chapter 10: The Meeting**  
 _  
April 11th, 1995  
Wigtown, Scotland   
  
  
_Skye was sitting on the driftwood bench her father made during his short stint as a retired professional quidditch player. It didn’t last long, as he took a job as a team manager shortly after, but there were a few weeks where Skye got to witness Ethan Parkin, amateur woodworker. Normally, the family congregated around fire and sat on the bench, watching the waves lap up against the shoreline. It was usually a happy place for Skye, but this time, it could not have been an unhappier occasion.   
  
“So how long this time?” Skye asked, waiting for the same inevitable answer she always got from Clara.  
  
“Well that’s the thing, Skye, I actually came here to talk to you about that.”   
  
“Oh really?” she scoffed, “You’re actually going to talk to me about it for once?”   
  
Clara looked as though she was taken aback. “Well yes, I was hoping to, but it seems like there’s something you would like to say first.”   
  
And then Skye was on her feet. “I can’t do this anymore, Clara,” Skye said, staring out over the water, “I can’t be your safe harbour when you decide to come back. You give me no notice when you’ll return, no warning about what you’re doing, and no explanation whatsoever. I’ve come to realize that this is just not fair to me.”   
  
“And what of me, Skye?” Clara answered hotly, “You are constantly asking me to change a fundamental part of myself. How is that fair to me?”   
  
“Your job is not your identity, Clara,” Skye said, losing patience with her.   
  
“A bit hypocritical coming from you, isn’t it? You barely have time to see me when I do come, and yet you don’t see the irony of this.” Clara replied, showing her frustration. “Had I come to Holyhead, you would have spent one hour with me, and another seven trying to figure out ways to lie about why I was there.”   
  
“That’s not fair either,” Skye exclaimed.   
  
“Maybe it isn’t, and I would never dare ask you to quit. But what’s not fair is that you refuse to acknowledge this,” Clara yelled back.   
  
“Acknowledge what?”   
  
“Us. You’re terrified of what people think and you won’t even talk about it. You lie about it to everyone.”   
  
“If you’re referring to tonight, it is unreasonable for you to expect me to tell my parents.”   
  
“It’s not your parents I am talking about, Skye.” Clara said, her eyes welling up. “You won’t even tell your best friends, in fact, you won’t even let me be seen with you.”   
  
“It’s not as simple as that, Clara. And besides, what does it matter, you are never here.”   
  
“You’re deflecting to avoid the point,” Clara said coolly, “after all these years you’re still ashamed of me.”   
  
“Ashamed?” Skye took a step towards her, her voice hot with anger, “How could I be ashamed of you?”   
  
“Because you won’t even tell your best friends about us. After five years, Skye, they already knew about us at Hogwarts, so what’s different now?” Clara shook her head, and turned away. Skye saw her wipe a tear from her face. “Five bloody years. How else should I interpret that?” Clara said. 

“Well, if that’s what you think, then this is a really sad conversation,” Skye said.   
  
“Well, that is what I think,” Clara answered, “and maybe it's time that we call this what it is.”   
  
“And what is this?”   
  
“A fantasy, something that will never be real because you would rather be unhappy, hiding from your fears than actually taking a step outside of your comfort zone and be happy. ”   
  
“That’s not fair, Clara, it’s just not fair.” Skye said, her eyes beginning to tear up.   
  
“Well this isn’t fair to me either,” Clara said simply.   
  
Skye looked at Clara, realizing for the first time that maybe she wasn’t the only one that was suffering. Maybe she had been selfish in this relationship. “So what, then, do we do?” Skye asked, the tears falling freely from her face now. “Is it just over?”   
  
“What’s the difference, really, because according to you, it never happened in the first place.” Clara said, coolly. Skye had never heard that tone from her before. “I have to go,” she continued, and with that she started walking towards the edge of the property, presumably to disapparate.

“Clara, wait!” she called after her. “You can’t leave like this!”  
  
Clara stopped and turned around; she took a long look at Skye and then marched back towards her and kissed her. Her hands were in Skye’s hair and she pulled her close, so close Skye could feel Clara’s heartbeat against her own. Skye could barely catch her breath as she lost herself in Clara’s passion.   
  
And then she was gone. Skye opened her eyes and looked frantically for her, but it was too late. Clara had disapparated into the night.   
  
She sat back down on the bench, letting the tears fall. _This can’t be the end,_ she thought, _this can’t be how we leave each other._ She sat for what felt like hours, watching the waves ebb and flow, she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her.   
  
“Skye? Are you okay?” came her mother’s voice, “Where is Clara?”   
  
“She left, Mum,” Skye said, trying unsuccessfully to conceal the tears from her mother.  
  
“Oh no, love, come here,” her mother sat down on the bench, hugging her daughter close. Skye couldn’t help it; she sobbed and sobbed, letting her mother comfort her. “You can talk to me.”   
  
She tried to take a deep breath, and then answered, “I don’t think she’s coming back this time.”   
  
“She always does, Skye. She loves you,” her mother answered, “and I know you love her too.”   
  
“It’s over this time. I messed it all up,” she said and then she began to cry again, sinking deeper into her mother’s arms. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, but by the time they began to walk back to the house, the moon had reached its peak in the night’s sky.   
  
“Mum?” Skye said, “Please don’t tell Dad.”   
  
Her mother nodded. “Now go get some sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning.”  
  
Skye highly doubted it but at least she could forget a bit while she slept.  
  
\---  
 _August 11 th, 1995  
Holyhead, Wales  
  
  
_“Merlin’s beard, Parkin. What were you playing at?” Gwenog yelled at her as the medics carried her off the field. “It’s a training session! Throwing your body around like that is just plain stupid.”   
  
“Gweong, can the lecture wait until after my ribs are fixed?” Skye winced; the pain was almost too much to bear.   
  
“I really must insist that you let us take care of her now, Gwenog,” said the head medi-witch. “McLaggan, make yourself useful." She pointed at the stretcher.   
  
“Yes, ma’am,” the young blond witch replied. She waved her wand and suddenly Skye was floating through the air. She floated towards the medical tent while she went in and out of consciousness. After a moment, Skye felt herself drop onto the soft bed and the medi-witches began to examine her injuries.   
  
“Okay Miss Parkin, I need you to drink this.” A blue potion was being tilted into her mouth, and then she lost all consciousness.   
  
Skye woke up a few hours later, unsure of where she was or how she had gotten there. She moved slightly and the pain shot through her body, blinding her for a moment.   
  
“Not so quick, Skye,” came a soft voice, and then gentle hands were on her back, helping her sit up. When she regained her vision she saw Amanda there, examining her injuries delicately.   
  
“Well, it looks like you’ll be able to go home today, but no quidditch for at least a week,” Amanda said, trying to be stern.   
  
Skye leaned back gingerly, “Can you tell Gwenog for me? Because I think she might kill me where I stand if I do.”   
  
Amanda laughed, “Of course, I can do that for you.”   
  
Skye closed her eyes, “Thank you so much.”   
  
“On one condition though,” Amanda started.   
  
Skye opened her eyes slightly, “And what would that be?”   
  
Amanda sat on her bed and gave her a long look, before giving her a huge smile, “You finally let me take you out for a drink.”   
  
\---  
 _August 18 th, 1995  
  
  
_“I am so glad you finally said yes,” Amanda said, smiling at Skye from across the table.   
  
“I am too,” Skye replied, “although does it count as a date when you had to blackmail me into it?” Skye teased.   
  
“Oh hush,” Amanda said, “it was the only way to get you to not think about quidditch for a second.”   
  
“I thought you liked quidditch?” Skye asked, her eyebrow raised.   
  
“Oh I love quidditch, especially when I get to watch you play!” Amanda said, giving her hand a squeeze.  
  
Skye flinched, which Amanda noticed immediately.   
  
“I’m sorry, Skye, I should be more discreet. I’m just really glad you finally said yes.” Amanda admitted, shyly. “But I want to respect your boundaries.”   
  
She gave her hand a quick squeeze back, “I appreciate that, thank you.”   
  
They ordered some food and had some drinks and the conversation flowed freely. Skye was surprised about how easy it was to talk to her, considering she was usually such a private person. After a couple of hours, they got the cheque and Amanda asked Skye if she wanted to walk down to the harbour.  
  
As they walked outside, Skye peeked around and saw that they were alone. She grabbed Amanda’s hand and gave it another squeeze. “Thank you for tonight,” she began, “I’m really glad we did this.”   
  
“So am I,” Amanda said, with a smile.   
  
And then without really thinking, Skye kissed her. It was a lovely kiss, she thought, but she quickly realized that she was in the middle of the street.   
  
“I’m sorry,” Skye scrambled, apologising, “I don’t know what came over me.”   
  
“Don’t you dare apologise!” Amanda said. “Hey, how about we skip the harbour and we get another drink, maybe at my place?”   
  
“Sounds good to me,” Skye smiled.   
  
\---  
 _August 6th, 1997  
Holyhead, Wales  
_  
  
Skye turned over to look at the clock by her bedside that read _4:30_. She clambered out of bed, pulled her on running gear and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water. In the days leading up to this morning she had flipped back and forth on whether or not she should actually do this. She didn’t like lying to Amanda, but Amanda didn’t know about any of it to begin with. She had begun to think that it was time to tell her the whole story though, now that things were getting more serious. But not yet. Not today. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about why Clara wanted to meet.   
  
She took a final gulp of her water and headed out the door. The harbour wasn’t far from her home so she decided to get in a short run to taper some of her nerves. The issue with today’s run, however, was that she couldn’t help but think about all those times she and Clara got up to train at the break of dawn when Clara first tried out for Gryffindor’s quidditch team. It was incredible, really, that Clara went from an aspiring athlete to team captain in the span of three years. Clara’s leadership skills were always better than hers and had she stayed for her seventh year, she would have picked Clara too. It wasn’t until last season that Skye really started to take a leadership role with the Harpies.  
  
Skye started to slow down as she approached the harbour. She realized she didn’t know where Clara would be so she came to a stop near her favourite bench; it was the best place on the entire island to watch the sunrise, which had started the climb above the horizon already.  
  
“It’s a beautiful view,” came Clara’s voice, which was suddenly behind her.   
  
“You startled me,” Skye said, her heart pounding in her ears, “I didn’t hear you.”  
  
“I’m quieter on four paws,” Clara said, sitting down beside her. “But it is a lot harder to talk that way.”   
  
“I was relieved when I saw your letter,” Skye said, “I thought the worst had happened.”   
  
“It was a dramatic end to the evening,” Clara admitted, “but as far as I know, no one was seriously hurt.”   
  
They sat in silence for a moment, while all the words Skye wanted to say stuck in her throat.   
  
“You’re wondering why I sent it, though?” Clara asked, which made Skye question whether Clara was actually reading her thoughts this time.   
  
“I was surprised, to say the least,” Skye confirmed.   
  
“It’s selfish, really,” Clara began, “but I needed to see you.”   
  
Skye didn’t dare look at her, “Why?” Skye said, unsure whether or not she wanted the answer.   
  
“Because I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again.”   
  
Skye looked over at her, she looked scared. “You’re about to do something dangerous, aren’t you?” she asked.   
  
Clara nodded.   
  
“And you can’t tell me, can you?”   
  
Clara shook her head.   
  
Skye laughed despite herself, “Some things don’t change. So you came to tell me that you can’t tell me what you’re doing?”  
  
“I told you it was selfish,” Clara shrugged before continuing, “but here,” she passed her a letter that was dated from May 7th.  
  
Skye read it quickly then looked up at Clara. “This is from Dumbledore?” she asked, not hiding the shock in her voice.   
  
Clara nodded again.   
  
Skye turned back to the letter. “It looks like he knew he was going to die,” Skye remarked. She glanced at Clara again. “So this is why you came back? This is why you quit your job?” she asked.   
  
“Yes,” Clara said, “and I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, but the more people know, the more danger it puts the others in.”   
  
“So why tell me this at all?” Skye asked, looking up from the letter once more.   
  
Clara sighed, “Because I don’t know what will happen in the coming months, Skye. And you’ve always been that person for me, even if you didn’t feel it all the time, I just needed to see you.”   
  
Skye stayed silent for a moment but then admitted, “I’ve missed you, I really have.”   
  
“I’ve missed you too, Skye, and I promise I didn’t come here to cause issues between you and Amanda, please tell her that, but I needed to see you at least once before I get too deep into this.” Clara said.   
  
Skye immediately felt guilty. The cause of their final fight came screaming back to her. She felt Clara’s eyes on her and before she could get the words out, Clara said, “You haven’t told her at all, have you?”   
  
There was no point in lying to an accomplished legilimens, “No, I haven’t. I had a chance to, in the beginning, but now I don’t even know how to explain it.” Thinking about their last fight, on the beach in Scotland, she prepared for the worst.  
  
But Clara only sighed and shifted her gaze to the harbour. “Does she make you happy?”   
  
Skye was taken aback by the question, “I, uhh, well yes, she does,” she said.   
  
“Good. Then don’t make the same mistake twice,” Clara got up, “I know it’s hard, I know it’s scary, but if you love her, don’t hide her. We need love now more than we ever have.” She turned to face her again, “I think it’s time for me to go, I don’t want to be seen by too many people and I have to meet with someone.”   
  
“Chiara, right?”   
  
Clara nodded and then started to walk away; Skye was on her feet now. It was now or never. She called after her, “Why didn’t you come back? I know we fought…” she trailed off, “but I thought you would come back… or at least write.”   
  
Clara turned around to face her. “I did,” she replied, “I came four months later, when I found out my brother died.”   
  
Skye was stunned, “What?”  
  
Skye looked at her and Clara couldn’t make eye contact.   
  
“Clara, I, I am so sorry…” she whispered.   
  
“I wanted to tell you. He died on the 11th of August; I found out when I returned from a surveying mission. When I found out I was distraught and the only person I wanted to see was you so I took the first chance I could and took a portkey to Wales,” Clara continued.   
  
“But you didn’t come see me,” Skye stated firmly.   
  
“Well, I did see you, Skye,” Clara said, her eyes downcast.   
  
“What do you mean?” she asked, not understanding what Clara was getting at.   
  
“I saw you leave the pub, holding hands with someone, and then when you kissed her in the street, I left,” Clara stated.   
  
Skye was speechless. That was the night she went out with Amanda for the first time. “Clara, I… I don’t know what to say.” She suddenly remembered the glint of silver across the street. To this day, that memory had stuck in her head.   
  
“There’s nothing to say, Skye. You don’t have to explain anything,” Clara shrugged. “Besides, I got the point after you didn’t reply to my letter.”   
  
Skye looked up at her, confused. “What letter?” Skye asked.  
  
“The letter? I sent it about a month later.” Clara answered, her brows furrowed.   
  
“Clara, I never received a letter,” Skye stated.   
  
They looked at each other for a moment. “I sent one, I promise,” said Clara. “But no matter, it was two years ago.”   
  
Skye still couldn't wrap her head around the bombshells of information Clara just dropped. The letter, her brother... “Clara, I wish I had known about Jacob. If I had received the letter, I swear I would have answered.”   
  
She nodded. “I have to go. Promise me you will be cautious?”  
  
“I should be saying the same to you,” Skye said.  
  
“And I will do my best. Goodbye, Skye.” And with that, Clara left.   
  
Skye watched her go and then apparated back to her apartment. She took a deep breath and walked up the stairs. When she opened the door she saw Amanda sitting at the kitchen table holding Clara’s letter, a serious expression covering her face.   
  
“Who sent you this?” she asked.  
  
 _Shit._  
  
\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me so long to write. I was trying to find a balance between pushing the story further but not revealing too much... I hope the next chapters will flow a bit better. Cheers!


	11. August 18th

CHAPTER 11: August 18th

_ April 12th, 1995  
_ _ Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley, London _

  
“Clara, I know this was a hard decision for you. What happened took a toll on all of us but for what it’s worth, I think this is the right decision. Johnson’s intel says that there is a disturbance close to Durmstrang,” Bill said. He got up from his desk and pointed at the map. “It’s happening here and here,” he continued, “and they believe it’s either a source of ancient magic or the work of dark wizards in the area.”

“Could it be both?” Clara asked, looking at the report. 

“Very possible.” Bill sighed and gave her a long look. “I think you’re ready to lead this one, Clara.”

Clara shook her head. “I almost quit yesterday, Bill. I don’t even think I am ready to be on this mission,” she admitted.

“You’re the best leader we have in the field right now,” he said, trying to convince her.

She sighed, accepting the inevitable. “Peterson will hate it.”

Bill smiled. “So nothing new there,” he laughed. “Okay, here are the details. The team should be ready to leave by the weekend. We have a contact in Oslo who has an apartment for you during the first six months while you conduct research. After that you’ll need to move up the coast.”

“What’s my cover?” she asked.

“Everything is in the file.” 

She read it briefly. “An artist? Really?” Clara laughed. 

“Easiest way to explain why you need to go out into the woods every day,” he shrugged. 

“I have another question,” Clara began.

“Yes?” Bill asked.

“Where is my brother? Where are you sending him?” she asked seriously. 

He gave her a long look. “I’m not at liberty to say. But he’s not going back to Egypt.”

She nodded. 

“Is that all?”

“Of course, sir.”

Bill laughed. “Please, it just sounds weird when you say that. Off you go. I’ll meet with you before you take off.”

“Thanks, Bill.” 

—   
_ August 18th, 1995  
_ _ Oslo, Norway  
  
_

“O’Connor,” Peterson grumbled. “Letter for you, on the table.” He gestured vaguely toward the kitchen. 

Clara pulled off her travelling robes and walked into the kitchen. She removed her dragonskin gloves and grabbed the letter from the table. It was addressed from Gringotts, the official seal was branded on the back, though it made no mention of which department sent it.  _ That’s odd,  _ she thought as she opened it.

_  
Miss O’Connor _

_ We regret to inform you that on the 11th of August, 1995, there was a serious incident at one of our outposts outside of Cairo. Your brother, Jacob O’Connor, was severely injured and as a result he succumbed to his wounds in the early evening.  _

_ You were listed as his next of kin and as the executor of his will; we require your presence in London at your earliest convenience.  _

_ Our sincere condolences. _

_ Arthur J. Thomas  
_ _ Office of Personal Affairs  
_ _ Gringotts, London  
  
_

Clara stared at the words on the page, refusing to believe it. She just saw Jacob before she left Egypt four months ago.  _ He wasn’t even supposed to be in Egypt,  _ she thought, _ why was he there? Was Bill lying to me?  
_

She collapsed into the chair, re-reading the words over and over again.  _ Jacob made me his next of kin and executor? Why would he do that?  _ Clara asked herself.  _ None of this makes any sense.  _

She couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone; they’d know soon enough. There was only one person she wanted to see. Without a second thought, she ran out the door and quickly disapparated with a pop.

\---

Clara appeared in the alley behind Skye’s apartment. She checked the street for people and upon seeing she was alone, she ran up her steps and knocked loudly on the door.

After a few moments, she accepted that she wasn’t home and quickly transformed. She sprinted through town on four paws and arrived at a local pub she and Skye used to go to. She sat down and considered her next move. If she burst into the pub and Skye was there, it might cause a scene; if she waited, however, she might be able to catch her on her way home. She didn’t have a ton of time, so she decided on the first option but right as soon as she transformed, she quickly had to sink back into the alley. 

She saw Skye exit the pub with a girl with blonde hair. She saw Skye grab her hand and then quickly kiss her. It felt as though a hand had clenched around Clara’s heart as she watched the couple walk down the street. She sank into the wall and tried to gather herself. She took a deep breath, turned on her heel and disapparated. 

\---

Clara arrived back in Oslo, apparating to a spot behind the apartment that she knew would be deserted. There was no way she could go up and deal with Peterson right now. What she needed was a drink. 

She left the dark alleyway and quickly walked onto the main road, her feet carrying her to a local pub where the team would frequent during their off time. It was moderately busy, but the dim lighting would allow Clara to sit relatively undetected while she processed everything. She eyed a seat at the bar and while she walked towards it the barmaid intercepted her. 

“Hva kan jeg få deg?” the barmaid asked.

“Sorry?” Clara said.

“En drink?”

Clara nodded and said, “Please. Whiskey?” 

The barmaid nodded and walked around the back of the bar to fix her drink. Clara took the seat at the bar and looked around, examining the premises and taking note of any irregularities. 

“Femti,” the barmaid said, “err, five-ty” she added, holding up five fingers and then making a zero with her fingers.

“Right,” Clara pulled out a fifty kroner note and pushed it towards her.

She placed the glass down in front of Clara, who nodded and said, “Thank you so much.” Clara smiled and took a sip, letting the whiskey burn some feeling back into her body.    


“Skål,” said the barmaid, “to your, err, good healt.” 

“Your English is far better than my Norwegian, I’m afraid,” Clara laughed.   


”Your accent? You’re not, English, yes?”

“Irish,” Clara confessed. “Where the best whiskey is from.”

She turned the bottle she just poured and pointed at the label. “Scotland,” she said.

“Fair point,” Clara agreed, tipping her glass towards her. 

“Lately, you come here a lot? Why?”

“Business,” Clara answered vaguely. 

She pointed at Clara’s travelling robes. “You don’t look like a business persons,” she commented, her eyebrow raised.

“Different type of business,” Clara admitted and then finished her drink. 

“Another?”

“Please.”

She reached under the counter and pulled out a bottle Clara knew well. “A special glass this time?” she asked.

Clara nodded and gladly took the glass of firewhiskey. “So you knew?”

“Yes,” she said, pointing at her robes again, “you didn’t hide your wand well.” 

Clara laughed, “Good thing I’m not an Auror.”

“Or-rer?” she asked.

“Dark wizard catcher.”

“Ah,” she nodded, “I can take my, err, break now? Can I sit?”

“Of course,” Clara nodded and gestured to the empty seat beside her.

The barmaid sat next to her. Even in Clara’s current emotional state, it was hard not to notice how pretty she was.

“You look, sad?” she asked Clara.

She took another sip. “I am, actually, I am quite sad,” Clara admitted without really thinking. 

“Whiskey helps, yes?”

Clara laughed. “Absolutely.”

“So, why is it that you are sad?” she pressed. 

Clara paused and gave her a long, calculated look. “My brother died this week, and I had my heart broken,” she admitted. 

The barmaid looked at her with a soft expression. Clara quickly tried to backpedal, “I’m sorry, that was way too much information.”

Much to Clara’s surprise, she placed her hand on Clara’s arm. “I’m very sorry to hear this. You and your brother, you were close, yes?”

Clara sighed. “We were when we were younger, then it becomes a really long story,” Clara laughed, “but lately we had started to rebuild our relationship. Just seems a waste now, all those years we spent not being in each other’s lives.” Clara shrugged.

The barmaid nodded. “May I ask how he died?”

Clara started to tear up, “They wouldn’t tell me exactly what…” she trailed off. “He was a curse-breaker, his job was dangerous, so it could have been anything.”

“It seems odd, no? That they wouldn’t tell you.” 

Clara thought about it, “Yes, I think you’re right about that.”

“Is that what you do, too?” she asked Clara. 

“Sometimes,” Clara half admitted. "but no, I am an artist," she lied. She took another drink.   


The barmaid didn't look convinced, but she changed the subject much to Clara's relief. “The person who broke your heart, I think they must regret it,” the barmaid said. 

Clara chuckled. “I don’t think so. They’re with someone else now.” It hurt to even admit that. The idea of Skye kissing someone else… it cut her deeply.

“Well, they made bad choice,” she said, smiling at Clara. “Lucky for me, I think.” 

She wasn’t sure if she had heard her words correctly but after a moment Clara realized that her hand was still on her arm. She had to admit that she liked it, but she was starting to feel a bit woozy. She coughed, and the barmaid released her arm.

Clara finished her drink and placed the glass down. “I think one more glass would put me to sleep,” she said before getting up to leave. “Thank you for the drink, and the talk, umm…” she trailed off realizing she never actually asked her name.

“Lina,” she finished for her.

“Lina, yes.” She reached out and shook Lina’s hand, “Clara. Thank you.”

“You should come again, soon,” Lina said, a small smile on her lips. 

“Maybe I should,” Clara smiled back, and then turned to leave. 

She walked back to the apartment, feeling marginally less terrible than before.  _ It really was over _ , she thought as she walked up the stairs. She knew she couldn’t be mad at Skye, she had every right to move on after that last fight. At her core, Clara wanted Skye to be happy above all else… but seeing her kiss someone in the street, something she would never do with her… that’s what hurt her the most. 

Clara went to her room and sat down on the old bed thankful that she didn’t have to share with anyone this time. One of the few benefits of being a witch in a career dominated by wizards. She sighed and pulled out some parchment, grabbed a quill and some ink from her bag and started to write. She started with a letter to Bill; she needed to know what was going on from his mouth because this didn't make any sense at all.   
  
Then, she scribbled an apology to Skye for the last time they saw each other. She also wrote about her brother and then she wrote a brief description of where she was and what they were doing. She wrote down everything that she wanted to say to Skye and sealed it. She would send it as soon she could.

For now, she would rest.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay, I wrote this a little bit selfishly because I think I always had this fantasy of meeting a beautiful Scandinavian woman. But also, Clara's earned it. Her brother just died, shouldn't she be allowed to have one night where she doesn't feel like shit?
> 
> Thank you for indulging me on this one :)


	12. Forming the Wolf-Pact

**  
****CHAPTER 12: Forming the Wolf-Pact**

 _August 5th, 1997_ _  
_ _Snyde Manor, England_

“Letter came back for you,” Merula pointed at the table. 

_C,_

_He said come tonight. My parents' house.  
  
_ _T._

Merula’s voice cut into her thoughts. “I’m heading out but will be back tonight.” 

“Going to tell me why?”

Merula laughed. “Good try,” she said, “be careful, they’re being watched I bet.” Clara knew she was referring to Tonks and Remus. It was a dangerous task but she couldn’t do what Dumbledore asked of her without more information. 

“You too,” Clara said, watching her leave. She looked around the room; it really was a magnificent house with so many rooms Clara couldn’t keep track. 

Looking back at the letter, she became acutely aware of the dangerous mission ahead of her. She needed to find a way to appeal to the werewolves, convince them that Voldemort would kill them as soon as they had filled their purpose and then find a way to protect them. But to do that, she needed more information, about how to find them, which is why she needed to see Remus. She had experience with werewolves in her travels, but she had never had to appeal to them in this way. 

And then there was the matter of the giants… she tabled that for a moment and started to pour over the books she had gathered before the wedding on werewolf legislation and the propaganda that had already come out regarding Dumbledore and the Potter boy, which Merula had brought back presumably for her own research. 

After an hour or so reading about the various ways the Ministry had tried to strip werewolves of their rights, Clara needed a break. She got up and grabbed her travelling cloak and decided to go see Penny. She had received a letter the previous day from her saying that she and Ben were fine, but Ben had decided that he needed to go into hiding, and fast.

She was wondering if it would be safe to bring Ben here; she and Merula had discussed it. The last place they would look for a muggle born wizard would be in the home of a prominent pure blood family, even if they were able to find it. However, Merula’s current status as an alleged blood traitor could prove to be problematic. She guessed that was part of what Merula was trying to do - convince her contacts that she was in fact on their side. 

She sighed and pulled on her cloak and stepped out onto the backstep. Turning on her heel she disapparated and appeared between the bins behind the apothecary. She then quickly transformed and barked, scratching the door until she heard someone behind it. She sat down and wagged her tail, trying to look as friendly as possible. 

The door opened, revealing a witch Clara didn’t know. 

“Shoo, get out of here you mutt!” she yelled, swatting Clara with the broom. Clara barked again, prompting Penny to rush to the door.

“Miss Robbins, there is someone at the counter that needs your assistance. I can handle the dog,” Penny said, smiling at the shop owner. Miss Robbins left, sending an annoyed look over her shoulder. Penny turned back to Clara, “You’re going to get me fired Clara,” she said with a smile, “but it is my break so come upstairs and be quiet,” she whispered. 

Clara followed her up the back steps, treading lightly as she stepped. They arrived on the landing and then Clara transformed. “Sorry about that,” she whispered, “I just wanted to check in on you too. Is Ben here?”

Penny nodded and opened the door to her room. “Ben,” she whispered, “it’s all clear.” Ben emerged from behind the wardrobe.

“Oh Clara, thank Merlin,” he hugged her, “I’m so glad to see you.”

“You too, Ben.” She hugged him tightly. “Are you two okay?”

They both nodded. “They did a raid on the first day after the wedding, but Ben was brilliant. He placed an undetectable extension charm on the wardrobe and hid himself,” Penny beamed. 

“You were always the best at Charms,” Clara said, smiling at her friend. 

“We do need a permanent solution though, they will definitely come back,” Ben said.

“Well, I may be able to help there. Merula and I talked about it and you should come stay with her; I doubt the Death Eaters would expect you to be at a pureblood family’s home. I mean, even Lord V-“

“SHHHH!” Ben said while Penny clamped her hand over Clara’s mouth. 

“It’s taboo,” Penny said.

“Taboo?” Clara asked. 

“Saying his name. It’s taboo and will bring the Death Eaters to you right away,” Ben said. “It’s supposed to be a way to identify people who oppose him.”

“Good to know,” Clara said, “that’s a mistake I would like to avoid.” She got up and looked around. “When the time comes when you need a safe haven, contact me the old way.” She pointed at the ring on her hand. “I promise, we will get through this together.”

They nodded and then Ben said, “Are you finally going to tell us what you’re up to?” 

She sighed and pulled out the letter from Dumbldore but before handing it over she said, “He wanted me to trust in my friends. The last thing I want to do is put targets on your backs, but it’s important that you know - I can’t do it alone.” She handed the letter to Penny and let them read it. 

Ben looked up. “It seems like he knew he was going to die,” he said simply. 

“I think he did,” Clara admitted. 

“His hand,” Penny said suddenly. 

“What?” Ben and Clara asked in unison 

“I knew something was wrong when I saw him last,” Penny said and then grabbed a newspaper clipping. “There,” she pointed at the picture of Dumbledore. “Look at his hand.”

They looked and saw that his hand was blackened. “I wonder what happened,” Clara posed out loud. 

“It’s a curse, for sure,” Ben said and Penny nodded in response.

“So he knew, and fought until his last days to prepare us for what was to come,” Clara said. 

“And the fate of the wizarding world lays on the shoulders of a seventeen year old boy,” Penny added.

“Well, we’ve all seen what a group of seventeen year olds can do when their backs are up against the wall,” Ben said, “so we need to help him the best we can, even from afar.”

They all nodded and Penny grabbed their hands, “We’ll do this together.”  
  
\---

Clara arrived back at Merula’s in the early evening. She went to the kitchen and fixed herself a sandwich before pouring over the books once more. She wouldn’t leave for Tonks’ before dark and hoped that she would catch Merula before she left. As she was finishing her dinner, she heard a pop which was closely followed by a crash. She was on her feet as quick as a cat with her wand outstretched. 

“At ease, O’Connor, it’s just me,” Merula said. 

Clara took one look at Merula whose robes were ripped and there was clearly mud and dirt on her face. “Merlin’s beard, Merula, what happened?” Clara demanded.

“A bit of a scuffle with some snatchers,” she admitted, “but I managed to convince them I’m clean, or rather, that I’m not.” She threw herself in the chair and then upon seeing Clara’s expression added, “I’m fine, I promise. They’re idiotic, really.”

Clara wasn’t convinced but knew better than to press. 

Merula continued, “Shouldn’t you be at Tonks’?”

“Heading out now, just wanted to make sure you were fine before leaving.”

“Cheers mate, but you should be focusing on yourself. Don’t get caught up worrying about me,” Merula shrugged. “Have you decided how you’ll protect them?”

Clara sighed, “No, I can’t think of anywhere I could bring them that would keep them safe. Besides, I’d first need to find them and convince them to trust me, which seems impossible,” she admitted.

“Bring them here,” Merula said casually.

Clara looked at her in shock. “Here?”

“Why not? I have a million rooms, Penny can make Wolfsbane right? We’ll keep them stocked up and I have a cellar that is soundproof and can be locked.”

“I’m not even going to ask why you have that,” Clara said.

“It’s best that you don’t,” Merula said seriously. 

“And you’re serious about this? Aren’t you worried about them revealing the house?” Clara asked seriously. 

“We’ll deal with that when we need to.”

“Thank you, Merula.”

She nodded. “I need to rest. I’m leaving for a few days so you’ll have to fend for yourself for a bit.” Merula got up and stepped gingerly, “oh, do you have any dittany?”

Clara’s eyes narrowed but she nodded. “On the shelf in the bedroom.”

“Thank you. See you soon,” Merula said before leaving the room. 

Clara shook her head and then made her exit once more. She disapparated and reappeared in the forest cluster outside of a modest looking home. She had been here before, after she had finished her seventh year; the garden looked the same as it had the last time, with a few more unruly weeds peeking out of odd places. 

She approached the gate, anticipating that there would be enchantments protecting the house. She gently touched it and heard a crack, and then a figure appeared in front of her. It looked a bit like Tonks although she was transparent.

Ghostly Tonks opened her mouth and asked, “Who spied on your first date at Madam Pudifoot’s tea shop?”

“You did, and so did Charlie Weasley,” Clara replied. The ghost-Tonks vanished and the gate opened. _Neat trick,_ Clara thought as she approached the door. She knocked once and saw the door open a sliver.

“Clara?” asked a voice behind the door. 

“Yes it’s me,” she answered. The door opened a little more and Clara was ushered in. 

“We can’t be too careful,” said Remus. He gestured for her to follow him to the kitchen. She took a seat across from him and he fixed her some tea. “Any issues getting here?” he asked.

“None at all. The enchantment was brilliant. I suppose we should come up with some questions and safe words as we proceed,” Clara stated.

“Indeed we should,” Remus said and then continued, “we should get straight to it.” He pulled out what looked like a letter from his coat and handed it to her. “This is from Dumbledore.”

Clara grabbed it and quickly read it. It was more or less what Dumbledore had sent her but it had further details about where some may be. It also had a list of known werewolves and their blood status, hogwarts houses and their affiliation during the first wizarding war if known. 

“That list cannot get into the wrong hands, do you understand?” Remus asked seriously. “It would be incredibly dangerous for any of them if it came out and it would also put you in a perilous situation.”

“Of course. I understand.”

“Good,” Remus said, “now where we need to start is with the protection of the individuals on this side of the list.” He gestured to the first name.

“Chiara,” Clara answered. “I’m going to see her tomorrow.”

“Good, she needs to be alerted right away. Find out as much information as you can and try to get her to safety without arousing suspicion. There have been reports of wolves in Holyhead so they’re bound to start rooting around soon.” 

Clara nodded. “You know, the more I read about werewolf registration, the more frustrated I become. Wizards walk through the world every day activity choosing to commit atrocities and yet we dehumanize werewolves because of something they didn’t choose and only happens once a month. They could work to make our world a better place for 353 days and yet, they are forced out of society.”

Remus nodded sombrely. Clara realized right away she may have overstepped. “I’m sorry, Remus, I’m sure you don’t want to discuss it.”

“No, Clara, on the contrary,” he placed his hand on her arm, “I think it’s imperative that we do. It’s important that you talk to these witches and wizards about that exactly. About their humanity.” He sighed and got up. “It’s easy to think of ourselves as less than, in fact, I probably do every day. For quite sometime I haven’t felt like I belong in this world, but it’s witches and wizards like you that help me feel as though I have a place here.”

“I wish there was more I could do, to change your experience,” Clara admitted. “This is why we need to keep fighting.” 

Remus laughed. “I would have loved to have you as a student.”

“You would have been far superior to the ones we had for Defense I’m sure,” Clara said with a laugh.

“I had a student a lot like you, actually. She started an organization to free the Hogwarts house-elves; I dare say she would make a fine Minister for Magic one day as well,” he said.

“Well then she can’t be too much like me,” Clara asked, “that job requires patience and not acting on impulse.” They both laughed at that statement.

Then a creak on the stairs drew their attention. “Well hello there,” said Tonks, smiling, “have I interrupted?” she asked.

“Not at all,” said Remus, “was just remarking the similarities between Clara and young Miss Granger.” 

“Ah yes, I see it. Annoyingly smart and passionate about helping those in need,” she laughed. “Yes I believe you and Hermione would get along.”

“Miss Granger? She’s the one who is friends with Harry, yes?” Clara asked.

“The very same,” Remus said. “She and the youngest Weasley boy are with Harry. As far as we know they are safe.”

“Hermione’s brilliant,” Tonks added, “maybe even smarter than Rowan was.”

Clara whistled, “Wow, that is high praise.” 

Remus nodded. “Harry can act impulsively on emotion and Ron is a great sidekick, but Hermione is really the brains behind them. If they are able to do what Dumbledore asked of them, she will be crucial in that.” Clara noticed his eyes drift away to the window. She got the sense that he was withholding something. She also felt that it was time for her to leave.

“Well, big day tomorrow,” Clara said. “Thank you so much for taking the time to see me. How can I contact you again?” she asked.

“There’s a mailbox out front. Only we can open it, but you can put letters through the slot. We check it every day,” Tonks said.

“Perfect.” She got up and hugged her friend, “I wish I could see you under better circumstances.” 

“Nonsense,” Tonks laughed, “it would be weird if we did things normally.”

Clara laughed in return, “You’re right, how silly of me." She then shook Remus's hand, "Goodbye for now.”

She left and walked to the fence once more. Once she stepped through the gate, she disapparated once more.

—-

 _August 6th, 1997  
_ _Holyhead, Wales_

_  
Clara nodded. “I have to go. Promise me you will be cautious?” _

_“I should be saying the same to you,” Skye said.  
  
_ _“And I will do my best. Goodbye, Skye.” And with that, Clara left._ _  
_ _  
_ \---   
  
Clara walked through town, ruminating on the conversation that she had just had. She never meant to tell Skye about that night two summers ago. It was embarrassing, admitting that she had seen it and immediately fled. That also wasn’t how she had wanted to tell her about Jacob. Jacob’s death was still a mystery to this day, a mystery she hadn’t given up on, but unfortunately had to be tabled for now. 

She continued on the path that led from the harbour to the clinic by the stadium, a place she had been a few times as well. She was hoping that she wouldn’t see Amanda, but knew there was a possibility of it given the location. When she arrived at the clinic, she saw a few medi-witches working away with patients already. She stepped behind a tree and transformed, then barked a few times, hoping to draw Chiara’s attention. After a few minutes, Chiara poked her head out of the doorway and spotted her immediately. She pointed to the back and Clara trotted over to the door. Chiara opened the door and patted her head with a smile, beckoning her to follow. They went into the office and Chiara closed the door behind them.   
  
"Clara," she said happily, "I am so glad to see you." She hugged Clara tightly. "How long has it been?"  
  
"Way too long," admitted Clara, "I am so sorry about that. I have been a terrible friend the past few years."  
  
Chiara shook her head. "You don't need to apologize, Clara. Our lives went in different directions and I am just as much to blame for not writing."  
  
Clara sighed, "You're always far too forgiving."  
  
Chiara chuckled, "And you are always far too concerned with making sure everyone is happy and forgetting to take care of yourself."  
  
"I have been found guilty of that now and again," Clara conceded.  
  
"So, Clara, you wanted to meet urgently?" Chiara asked, "I suggest we get straight to it or we run the risk of being overheard."  
  
"Right," Clara said, pulling out the letter from Dumbledore. "I came here to talk about werewolves, and more importantly, your safety."  
  
Chiara looked shocked but took the letter. "I can't say I was expecting that." She quickly read it and then looked at her. "So he believed that I would be in danger?"  
  
"Yes," Clara answered, "I know not many people know about you, but we can't guarantee that You-Know-You doesn't. But I am sure You-Know-Who knows your affiliation with the Circle of Khanna," she added guiltily. "An association you wouldn't have if it weren't for me, unfortunately."  
  
Chiara laughed again, "An association I am proud to have. Besides, if what Dumbledore thinks is true, then I am in danger regardless." She got up and peeked through the slits in the window coverings then turned back to Clara. "So what is the plan?"  
  
"Well, I have a safe house for you. Penny can make Wolfsbane for us and there is a cellar that is soundproof and can be locked during full moons."  
  
"Why do you have a soundproof cellar that can be locked?" Chiara asked with an odd expression on her face.  
  
"I was told it was best that I didn't ask," Clara shrugged.  
  
Chiara nodded, but looked as though she wasn't entirely convinced. "So, you want me to go into hiding?"  
  
"No, I want you to know that I have a safe space for you if you need to go into hiding. We, Remus and I, believe that he will attempt to weaponize all the werewolves, similar to Fenrir Greyback. I know some will be sympathetic of the cause and will take any chance to be allowed to live free and in the open, like You-Know-Who will promise, but I know most werewolves are only dangerous for one night a month."  
  
"I am inclined to believe you. So what would be my role here?"  
  
"I'm an animagus, which is why Dumbledore picked me I think, because I can support werewolves in my canine form, but I can't understand what it's like to go through it every month, and be ostracized as a result," Clara admitted. "So, I'm asking for your help. I know it's a lot to ask for."  
  
Chiara sighed, "I'll consider it, I will. I'm not ready to hide yet, not without a good enough explanation. But I promise you, when I need help, I will contact you the old way. And I can help you with some names that I know in the area." She walked over to the desk in the corner and scribbled some names and locations down. "They are jumpy, but if you tell them you are a friend of mine, they will listen."  
  
"Thank you for this," Clara said, tucking the list into her robes. "Whenever you need me, contact me and I will come get you."  
  
Chiara nodded. "Oh and Clara, I told Skye you were coming. Will you be able to see her? I know she was a bit surprised to see you after the wedding."  
  
"I saw her this morning," Clara admitted. "Wait, she was shaken?"  
  
"Yes. She messed up a big assignment at work as a result. Didn't she tell you?"  
  
"No, she didn't tell me that."  
  
"After all these years, I think she still gets a little nervous around you. She hasn't gotten over that teenage crush." She laughed a bit.  
  
"Right," Clara said, realizing that Skye still hadn't told her a single thing about what went on post-Hogwarts, "that teenage crush."  
  
Chiara gave her an odd look.  
  
"Anyway, I will leave you to it," Clara said, getting up. "Thank you again, and please, contact me." She gave Chiara a quick hug and then transformed. Chiara let her out and Clara sprinted from the clinic, hoping to get as far away from Holyhead as she could, for now.  
  
\---


	13. Amanda's Secret

  
CHAPTER 13: Amanda’s Secret   
  
_August 6th, 1997  
Holyhead, Wales   
_  
  
“Who sent you this?” Amanda asked, a serious expression covering her face.  
  
Skye looked at her girlfriend, standing there clutching Clara’s letter. There was no way she could lie herself out of this, and to be quite honest, Skye didn’t want to.  
  
“It’s from Clara,” she answered, “she was in town meeting with Chiara and she wanted to check in, it’s been so long, you see?” she added.   
  
“What’s with the paw print?” Amanda asked, turning the page over.  
  
“Inside joke, from Hogwarts,” Skye said, trying to brush past it. Amanda, however, wouldn’t let her go on so quickly.  
  
“Care to tell me?” Amanda pressed.   
  
“It’s a quidditch thing,” she lied, “and it’s not my secret to tell.”   
  
Amanda looked at the letter again. “So, what did you talk about?”   
  
Skye sat down at the table across from Amanda. “We talked about her work and then we talked quidditch and how the team was going. She knows Rath too and she actually knows a bit about Ginny, so it was helpful.” She added, hoping she was being convincing enough.   
  
Amanda didn’t look particularly convinced, however. “So, if I ask Chiara, she will tell me that Clara was here and that she met with her.”   
  
“I assume she would, because that is the reason Clara gave me for being here in Holyhead today,” Skye said assuredly.   
  
Amanda got up and helped herself to a cup of tea. “So there’s nothing going on with the two of you?”   
  
Skye was taken aback. “What?” she said, “of course not.”   
  
“And nothing has happened between the two of you, ever?” Amanda asked, turning back to face Skye.   
  
Skye gulped. “Nothing is going on with Clara and I,” Skye said, “we were close when we were at Hogwarts but then I left and we lost touch.”   
  
“How close?” Amanda asked.   
  
Skye stared at her. “What do you mean? We were classmates, we were friends and we were teammates. We studied together, we trained together; I taught her how to play quidditch, but everyone knows that.”   
  
Amanda was still staring daggers at her. “Was she why you left the wedding?”   
  
“What? No, of course not.” Skye said, “I was tired.”   
  
“I thought you left because you weren’t feeling well,” Amanda said.   
  
“Well, yeah, that’s what I mean."  
  
“Listen, Skye, I know you’re guarded but I won’t put up with blatant lies. Either you tell me what the hell is going on or I am leaving right now,” Amanda said firmly.   
  
“Nothing is going on, Amanda, I promise.”   
  
Amanda shook her head and placed her cup back down on the counter then she walked to the door.   
  
“Wait, Amanda, why are you leaving?” Skye said, following her to the door.   
  
Amanda turned, her hand on the doorknob. “I’ve given you multiple chances to be honest with me and still you refuse to tell me the truth.”   
  
“Amanda, I have been telling you the truth. Why do you think there is something going on?” Skye demanded.   
  
She paused for a moment, as if she was going to reveal something but then second-guessed herself. Finally Amanda said, “You’ve been acting odd since the wedding,” she said, rather anti-climatically.   
  
“That’s all you’re basing this on?” Skye asked incredulously, “Things have been happening all over the country, scary things, Amanda. And I messed up with Gwenog, so things have been a little stressful I suppose.” She sighed, “Please stay.”   
  
Amanda’s shoulders slumped, “That’s not why you’re acting odd, though, is it? Gwenog has been mad at you before and you’ve never been like this. And no one was hurt at the wedding, so what is bothering you?” she asked.   
  
“I told you,” Skye said, “I’m just stressed.”   
  
Amanda shook her head. “You work so hard to keep your walls up that you can’t even see that they’re cracked. And I am confident I know why.”   
  
_What is she on about?_ Skye thought. “Amanda, I don’t know what you mean.”   
  
Amanda reached into her coat and pulled out a letter. She handed it to Skye who quickly read the date and the name of sender. _September 12 th, 1995._  
  
Skye looked at Amanda, anger boiling in her gut. “Why do you have this letter?” she said through gritted teeth.   
  
"Why did she send it to you? Why was Clara telling you she loves you?" Amanda said angrily.  
  
"You're in no position to ask questions right now, Amanda, why did I not receive this letter?" Skye demanded, her patience was dangerously thin.   
  
“Skye I,” Amanda began before Skye cut her off.   
  
“NO!” she yelled, “there is absolutely no reason why I shouldn’t have received this letter.” She backed away into the kitchen, unsure what to do with herself. Amanda stood at the door trying to explain herself, but it was no use. Skye couldn’t even look at her.   
  
“Have you read it?” Skye said, unable to contain the anger seething out of her.  
  
“I only read the first two sentences, and I was too embarrassed to admit that I had read it and eventually too much time had passed for me to fess up. I just liked you so much and here was a phenomenal woman telling you that she loves you and I was jealous, okay? It was selfish, I get that, and I am so sorry.”   
  
“Selfish?” Skye asked, “You invaded my privacy. You took something that wasn’t yours. It’s absolutely unacceptable,” she yelled at her. “It honestly doesn’t even matter what it said, you had no right to even look at it.”   
  
Amanda was crying now, but Skye couldn’t even look at her.   
  
“I think you should leave,” Skye said.   
  
Through her tears Amanda managed to squeak out, “Skye I am so terribly sorry, but you also have your secrets from me, secrets you wouldn’t tell me. You dated Clara, you had a full relationship, she loved you, and you didn’t tell me any of that.”   
  
“Because it wasn’t just my secret to tell!” she shouted back, before shoving the letter back to her. “Read the second paragraph.”   
  
“No, Skye, I can’t,” Amanda protested.   
  
“If you felt you had the right to take the letter, then I should think that you would have no problem with reading just one more paragraph,” Skye demanded. “Read it, out loud.”   
  
Amanda took it and began to read it through her tears, “ _I also wanted to share the news of my brother. About a month ago I received a letter from Gringotts that advised me of his death. Apparently there was an incident in Cairo, which makes no sense, because he wasn’t even supposed to be there. I think they are covering something up, but no one will give me any answers,”_ Amanda finished.   
  
Skye stared at her. “For two years, Amanda. Her brother died two years ago and I did not know.”   
  
“Skye, I promise I didn’t read it,” Amanda said, “If I had of, I would have put it back immediately.”   
  
Skye shook her head. “The damage is done, Amanda, and so are we,” Skye said in an emotionless tone. “This is unforgivable.”  
  
“Skye,” Amanda said, tears streaming down her cheeks, “please don’t do this.”   
  
“It’s already done,” Skye said, “and I need you to leave.” She opened the door and gestured for her to go.   
  
Amanda tearfully walked through the door frame, turning back to say, “But Skye, I love you, it can’t just be over.”   
  
“Then how come it is?” Skye said, before shutting the door. Once she locked it, she slumped against it and slid to the floor in tears. Every stable thing she had in the last two years just crumbled around her. She stayed there for what felt like hours, trying to make sense of it all; she pulled out the letter and reread all of Clara’s words, over and over again. How awful it must have been, she thought, to write this and never receive an answer. The thought of Clara alone, dealing with this, made her sadder than she could have imagined.   
  
Eventually she peeled herself off the floor and made her way to the living room. She needed a drink, she needed something to eat, and she needed… _Clara,_ her irrational brain thought. _No, you need to go to practice,_ her rational brain chimed in. In the course of four hours, her life had entirely turned upside down and yet, she had to go meet with Gwenog, who might actually rip her to shreds. _Maybe I should have that drink…_ she thought.   
  
She sighed and slumped into the chair by the fireplace. How could Amanda have done this? It was completely out of character; then again, maybe it was well within her character and she had just been blind to it. Another memory came up, the memory of the first night she ever met Amanda, back at school. She had been so forward then, as well as the many times she had asked her out, and not to mention the way they finally ended up going out in the first place, when she was vulnerable in the hospital room… Amanda had always been clear about what she wanted and what she had wanted since day one was Skye. So was it that surprising that she would do this? _No,_ she thought, _Amanda just made a bad decision. If she had really read the letter, she would have given it to me, right?_ she asked herself. _She wouldn’t have kept that from me._  
  
Skye got up and stretched, taking a look at the clock that now read 9:45. She would have to get a move on soon or Gwenog would really lose her mind. She had finally just let her come back to practice and this wouldn't be a good start if she were late. _Shit,_ she thought, _Amanda usually works Wednesdays at the pitch._ The last thing she needed was Rath or even Gwenog asking questions about it.   
  
She changed into her training gear and packed her bag for the pitch. She opened the door and found herself face to face with Chiara.  
  
“What happened?” she asked, without even saying hello. “With you and Amanda. She came into the clinic crying and begged me to switch shifts with me. She wouldn’t say a single thing other than she had to leave.”   
  
Skye sighed, “We broke up.”   
  
“Why?” Chiara demanded.   
  
“It’s complicated.” Skye said simply. “And I really can’t get into it right now, but I promise I will explain later,” she said as she moved past her.   
  
“Skye…” Chiara began, but then seemed as though she reconsidered. “Are you okay?”   
  
Skye looked at her, “Honestly, no,” she sighed, “but not for the reasons you might think.” She grabbed Chiara’s wrist. “I’ll tell you everything, tonight. Right now, I need to get my ass handed to me by Gwenog.”   
  
“Fair enough.”   
  
Skye gave her a smile and then disapparated.   
  
\---  
  
“Listen, I know I was tough on you last time we talked. To be fair, I think you deserved it,” Gwenog started, “but you also deserve a second chance. So good news or bad news first?” She got up from her desk.  
  
“Umm, bad news I guess.”   
  
“The bad news is that with the recent developments there will be no way to contact her for the time being. Not to be insensitive, but I honestly think without her this team is doomed.”   
  
“Bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Skye said, a small smile on her lips.   
  
“Perhaps, but honestly I haven’t seen a single female player lately that can meet our standards,” Gwenog shrugged.   
  
“And the good news?” Skye asked, hopeful.   
  
“Did I say there was good news?” Gwenog asked.   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“Oh right. Maybe its not good news, but your father sent a letter.”   
  
Skye stiffened. “About?”   
  
“About you taking time off to train with the Scottish National Team. Normally I would have tossed a letter like that in the fire but given that it is Ethan Parkin, that’s not a hill I want to die on.”   
  
Skye gave her a perplexed look, “So I can take time off?”   
  
“Hardly. But I will allow every other weekend and you will do half reps on Fridays so you don’t burn out, are we clear?”   
  
“Yes, Captain.”   
  
“Good. Now, why was McLaggan sobbing in the clinic this morning?” Gwenog asked, seriously.   
  
Skye gulped, “Well, I…”   
  
“Cut the shit, I know you two are dating,” she stated.   
  
“You do?” Skye asked, shocked.   
  
“Everyone does. And I don’t have an issue with it, as long as it doesn’t interfere with out training conditions.”   
  
“Everyone knows?” Skye asked, surprised.   
  
“Yes. You’re really not good at hiding secrets.” Gwenog said. "Also no one on the team cares. Most of us are in the same boat."   
  
_Did Gwenog just admit she was gay,_ she thought, _pay attention; not important right now._ “Well, that’s enlightening. And I guess since I can’t keep it from you, we broke up. This morning.”   
  
“Busy morning. Are you okay?” Gwenog asked, seriously.   
  
Skye was again, shocked. “I, umm, it won’t affect training.”   
  
“That’s not what I asked.”   
  
“I’m fine, cap, I promise.”   
  
Gwenog gave her another long look. “Okay, in that case, you’re running development team practice today. I can’t watch another second of it this week. I swear to Merlin himself if I have to see another second of it I will go drink the entire bottle of Draught of Living Peace I have in my house. I swear I'll drink the whole thing.”   
  
"Should I be concerned about something here?" Skye asked with a laugh.   
  
"Only if they drop another bloody quaffle. Fix it, please."   
  
Skye chuckled, “On it.”   
  
\---  
  
“So, what happened?” Chiara asked as she sank into the chair opposite Skye’s. She had come around after dinner and wasted no time at all getting down to the point.   
  
“If I tell you, you can’t get upset with me,” Skye said, seriously.   
  
“Oh Skye, what did you do?” Chiara asked.   
  
“Promise?” Skye pleaded.   
  
Chiara sighed, “Fine, I promise.”   
  
“Two years ago Clara sent me a letter,” she started, “telling me, among other things, that her brother had died.”   
  
Chiara stared at her, “Wait? Jacob is dead?” she began, “How come you didn’t tell me?”   
  
Skye got up and grabbed a bottle of Ogden’s and two glasses. “Because I never got the letter.” She poured the drinks and handed one to Chiara before sitting down.  
  
Chiara took a drink, “So how did you find this out? When you talked to Clara this morning?”   
  
“She told you we met?” Skye asked.   
  
“She did,” Chiara said, “So, she told you about the letter?”  
  
“Yes, she did and it was horrible. She looked so sad as she was telling me, it was heartbreaking,” Skye admitted.  
  
Chiara shook her head, still trying to wrap her head around it. “So she told you about sending the letter and you believed her.”   
  
“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I have?” Skye asked, a bit confused by her tone.   
  
“Well no one has really heard from her in years,” Chiara said. “It seems a bit odd that she would send you post out of the blue.”   
  
“See, that’s the thing, Chiara. It wouldn’t have been out of the blue.”   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“Because, until about two and a half years ago, Clara and I were together.”


	14. You Were What?

**CHAPTER 14: You Were What?**

“Because, for about five years, Clara and I were together.”

Chiara stared at her. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No,” Skye sighed, I’m not.

“So for almost half of our friendship you have been lying to me about a very serious relationship?” Chiara said, her frustration plastered all over her head.

“Yes.”  
  
“And Rath, does she know?”   
  
Skye shook her head. “I told her it ended when I left for Holyhead, which wasn’t technically a lie because it had… but then things started again. We wrote letters constantly, she came to see me, I went to watch her play in her last year.”   
  
“And no one suspected anything?” Chiara asked.   
  
“I pretended I was scouting, which I guess technically I was. She got a few offers as you recall.”   
  
“I can’t believe you kept this all from us,” Chiara said.   
  
“I know, I have so many regrets about it,” Skye admitted, her eyes downcast.

Chiara softened, “Well, I think I know you pretty well, so you probably have a good reason.”

“I wish I could say it was out of respect of Clara’s privacy, or that I could blame it on the fact that she was always leaving on dangerous missions and never telling me anything, but the truth is, I was scared,” Skye admitted.

“You were scared? Of me knowing?” Chiara asked. 

“Of anyone knowing. Of losing my career, my friends, my family and well… everything,” Skye said dejectedly. “I was ashamed,” she added, Clara’s words on the beach echoing in her head. “I was too ashamed to admit I was in love with her, so she finally left me and didn’t come back.”

“And then you met Amanda,” Chiara said, “who has been really good for you, right?”

Skye went silent for a moment before responding. “Yes, in some ways she has. She helped me move outside of my comfort zone, she supports me no matter what happens, she's annoying beautiful and most of all, she’s bloody brilliant. For a moment I felt that I could really fall in love with her.”

Chiara studied her, “But she’s not Clara, is she?” she said.

“I don’t even know if that’s it,” Skye said. “It’s been a confusing day. Just when I think I finally have a grasp on what’s going on and I finally feel safe and comfortable with everything… it just crumbles around me.”

Chiara took a long drink. “So why did you and Amanda break up then?”

Skye looked up, “Because she was the one that took the letter.”

Chiara looked absolutely shocked. “She wouldn’t.”

Skye nodded, “I thought that too, but here,” she passed the letter to Chiara who began to read it. At one point she clamped her hand over her mouth, a tear rolled down her cheek.

After she finished reading she reached out and grabbed Skye’s hand. “She really loved you, didn’t she?” she asked.

“I think she did,” Skye admitted.

“So why did Amanda take it? Certainly she wouldn’t have kept the news about Clara’s brother from you,” Chiara said softly.

“She says she didn’t read the whole thing, just the first bit. She was jealous and embarrassed that she read it, then too much time had passed and she couldn’t tell me. I’m inclined to believe her, because, well, she’s not a bad person, right?” Skye said, more to herself than anything. “At least she’s never given me a reason to think that she was.”   
  
“Nor I, and I’ve been working with her on and off for years. I still can’t believe she would do that,” Chiara commented.   
  
“I know. Truthfully I don’t know what to believe right now, but there’s no reason that she could give me that would ever make it okay that she did that. I mean, even if her intentions were good, I don’t know how it can be justified.”

Chiara nodded. “I wish I could have been there to support you through everything. And poor Clara, had I known… maybe I wouldn’t have been so curt with her this morning,” Chiara added sheepishly. “But to be fair, I haven’t seen her in ages and she didn’t write to me.”

Skye laughed. “It sounds like she didn’t write to anyone really.” Skye took a deep breath and then remembered she wasn’t the only one that saw Clara that day. “Wait, Chiara, what was your meeting about?”

“How much did she tell you?” Chiara asked, an odd look slowly overcoming her face.

“She showed me a letter from Dumbledore saying that he would need her to do something, but then, in true Clara fashion, said she couldn’t tell me anything else.”

Chiara gave her another look but then continued, “It was more or less the same, but she wanted to talk supplies and protection etc.”

Skye had a feeling that Chiara also had something she was keeping from her, but decided not to push her luck, given she had just revealed that she had been lying for about seven years. “Are you going to help her?” she asked.

“Of course I am. She’s still Clara, after all. And if Dumbledore asked her to do something, she’s going to need allies beside her. She didn’t ask for your help did she?”

Skye shook her head. “No, she didn't. In fact I think she was trying to make sure I was safe," Skye admitted. "She said she came on selfish reasons and that she just wanted to see me because it might be the last time she can. Selfish though it was, I am glad she did because…” she trailed off.   
  
“Because you still love her?” Chiara suggested.  
  
Skye laughed, “No, I don’t think that’s it.”   
  
“Then why?”  
  
“Because I miss her; she was my best friend and I hurt her.”  
  
“It sounds like you both hurt each other,” Chiara added.  
  
“Yes but I did more recently," Skye said. "She came here, the night she found out her brother died.”  
  
“She did?” Chiara asked.   
  
“Yes. And it was the night I first went out with Amanda. She saw us leave the bar so she must have seen me kiss her in the street." Skye quickly thought back to the night on the beach, when Clara said how Skye wouldn't even let her be seen on the street with her. "It honestly must have sucked to see, because I would never do that with her…” Skye confessed.   
  
Chiara stayed silent, examining her friend once more. They let the silence wash over them for a moment before Skye piped up once more.   
  
“Hey Chi, I am sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I know you are,” Chiara said, “but you really don't need to be sorry. I can understand how conflicted you must have been, I just wish you hadn’t had to go through it alone. I’m sorry you shouldered that for so many years.”

“I am too,” Skye admitted, “Will you keep me posted if she comes back? I would like to talk to her again if I can.”

“Of course. But I can’t tell you what she’s doing, you know that, right?”

Skye laughed, “I’m used to it, don’t worry.”

\---  
  
Skye woke the next morning feeling a pang of something that felt like guilt. She ran through the events of the previous day: _Met with Clara, she wrote a letter, Amanda found the letter and took it, we broke up, Chiara came over, I finally told her everything._ It felt good to finally have that secret out in the open, but she felt guilty about the way she treated Amanda in that moment. She made a bad judgment call and, like anyone, was too embarrassed to admit her mistake. And besides, Skye had been lying to her about her past for a long time, so maybe she did deserve a chance to explain herself.   
  
She sighed, swung her feet to the floor and decided she would leave it for the time being. A few days apart to think over what had happened and then she would talk to her.   
  
One of the things that had been bothering Skye was Amanda’s behaviour at the wedding. Prior to it she remembered how Amanda had brought Clara up continuously, talking about how fit she was and asking her if she was gay. Then at the wedding she flirted with her unabashedly… Amanda knew the whole time that she was and yet played innocent. Had she been trying to test Skye? Or elicit a response? Either way, it didn’t sit right with her.   
  
She got up and stretched, trying to bring life back into her tired body. She had another session with the development team so that Gwenog wouldn’t actually take matters into her own hands and end it all. They sucked, there was no point in sugar coating it, and they needed some new blood, fast.   
  
As far as they were aware, the season was still happening, despite the atrocities and the disappearances that were happening across the country. The Prophet was clearly in the hands of the Death Eaters, but many years ago Clara had taught her how to read between the lines. One of the latest titles suggested that Harry Potter was wanted for questioning regarding Dumbledore’s murder. _What a load of bollocks_ , she thought when she first read it. It was clearly a ploy to get everyone to turn on the boy and turn him in. Undesirable No. 1, they were calling him, along with his Muggle-born accomplice, Hermione Granger and blood traitor sidekick, Ron Weasley. _Merlin help them,_ she thought.   
  
And then the latest one regarding the creation of the _Muggle-Born Registration Commission_ and the implementation of the _Muggle-Born Registry,_ which had given Gweong quite a fright.   
  
_“We have two muggle-borns in our system, do you think they will come for them? Should we encourage them to register?”_ Gwenog had asked. It was an impossible situation; her gut told her that they shouldn’t go, that it would be a prison sentence or worse, but if they hid them the same fate would likely come for them. They could pretend they didn’t know, but would that save them?  
  
Skye had reread the article over and over again that week. She wanted Clara’s opinion, because she had a better sense of what was going on than she did, hidden here in Wales. But everything had happened so quickly and she didn’t get the chance to ask her. _Hopefully next time,_ she thought, hoping that there would in fact be a next time.   
  
She looked at Ron’s face again. He looked more like Bill than Charlie, and she guessed that was him at the wedding, dancing with the other girl in the paper, Hermione. She wondered if Harry was there too. It’s possible that he was, given the fact that the Prophet is assuming the three of them are on the run. She also wondered if her being at the wedding would place a target on her back too.   
  
And Clara… she was in danger and she knew it. She could see it on her face when they spoke. The whole group, the Circle of Khanna as they called themselves, would be in trouble. Charlie and Bill were already being watched, Tonks would be under surveillance too - her family were blood traitors, she was an auror and married to a werewolf, not to mention loyal to Dumbledore. If the rumours were true, Ben would likely be on the run. Chiara had received a letter from Penny already saying they had come to search her home. All of these people she hadn’t talked to or even thought about in years, were brought back into her life because of one person who they all cared about it.   
  
She thought back to the wedding once more, when she watched Clara sitting and talking to all of her friends once more. She knew nothing of the past two years, what she had done, who she had seen. She had changed, that much was clear, but in which ways she did not yet know. But as she thought about Merula placing her hand on Clara’s arm, it once again sent a pang of jealous anger down her body. She never could figure out their relationship and she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know. Maybe after they broke up Clara ran into the arms of another, maybe even Merula; she couldn’t be mad about it though, she had clearly done the same.   
  
She went to the kitchen and fixed herself a cup of coffee. She grabbed a piece of bread and toasted it with her wand quickly using a small but useful charm her mother had taught her. She thought that maybe she should go see her parents; it had been a few months and she and her father had much to discuss about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup trials. Scotland had managed to cling onto a qualification win, but they were not at all where they needed to be if they had any hopes of making into the next round.   
  
She decided to just wait until the weekend to see them, as she would be heading there on Friday to begin training once more. Her father would want to talk quidditch and nothing more, while her mother would try to discuss her relationships as per usual. Though the idea of digging through her relationship with her mother was not her favourite activity, some home cooked food and some laps on the pitch with her father might help.   
  
She sighed, finished her coffee, packed her bag, and prepared to face the new day.   
  
\---


	15. Send in the A-Team

CHAPTER 15: Send in the A-Team  
  
 _April 9 th, 1995  
Cairo, Egypt_  
  
  
Clara opened the door to the tent and dropped her rucksack at the foot of her bed. She sat down on the bed and rested her face in her hands.   
  
“Long day?” Merula asked.   
  
“The longest,” she replied.   
  
She took a deep breath and then reached into her bag to grab her notes. “Three distinct curses that have intersected in the Headless pyramid. Specifically in the mortuary temple.”   
  
“Isn’t that the one that’s covered in sand?” Merula asked.   
  
“Yes,” Clara said, “Unfortunately it makes accessing it much harder but the bright side is that the muggles won’t come near it,” Clara answered.   
  
“Of course. I had to get Johnson’s permission to obliviate a couple of tourists yesterday,” Merula commented, with a laugh.   
  
Clara swung her legs off the floor and laid back on the bed. “Heard from Ben or Jacob lately?”   
  
“Ben sent a message about a particularly tricky sphinx near Djedefre. They’ve been working out a plan to move past her without hurting her.”   
  
Clara laughed, “So you’re saying they’re too thick to figure out the riddle?”   
  
“Basically,” Merula said, chuckling. She tossed Clara an apple. “Eat, and then sleep. Bill sent a letter detailing our assignment for tomorrow.”   
  
“Where are we headed now?” Clara asked, taking a bite out of the apple.  
  
“Joining Ben and Jacob. Brush up on your Arabic and take a look at your ancient runes book again, I guarantee we’ll need it,” Merula said.   
  
“Noted.”   
  
“I am going to go talk with Rollins regarding the potion stores. We may need to reach out to the locals for potion ingredients.” Merula got up and then looking back added, “Get your rest. It’s going to be another long one.”   
  
“You too, Merula,” Clara replied before turning over and falling asleep immediately.   
_  
\---  
  
April 10th, 1995  
Abu Rawash, Egypt  
  
  
_“Clara!” came a voice from inside the tent. “So good to see you, sister!” Jacob emerged from the canopy and gave her a huge hug. “How long has it been?”   
  
“Way too long,” piped in Ben, coming around the corner and slinging his arm around her shoulder. “They decided to bring in the A-Team, did they?” Ben added, sending a nod to Merula.   
  
“Well when you need a job done right,” Merula shrugged, eliciting a huge laugh from Jacob.   
  
“Your confidence will be your undoing, Miss Snyde,” Jacob said.   
  
“I’ve been telling her that for years, and yet here we are,” Clara added with a laugh.   
  
“Have I ever steered you wrong?” Merula asked with a smirk.   
  
Clara rolled her eyes and was about to reply before Jacob cut her off.   
  
“Enough flirting you too, let’s get to work,” he teased, although Clara could sense a change in his tone.   
  
She shot him a look and then, using their mutual aptitude with legilimency, asked _What are you doing?  
  
_ Jacob shot her a look back and said _I am keeping you on task. You seem distracted.  
  
And you of all people know why. Stop projecting on me – they’ll start to notice. _She answered with a glare. _  
  
_Jacob rolled his eyes. Then Ben piped up, “Hey you two, it’s not cool when you do this right in front of us.”  
  
“You’re right, sorry Ben,” Clara said. “So, back to business. What’s the plan?”   
  
Ben cleared his throat. “Okay, so first of all we have to deal with this sphinx.”   
  
Clara and Merula shot each other a quick glance, trying not to laugh.   
  
“And then?” Merula asked.   
  
“And then,” Jacob interjected, “we will enter the ruins and finally see what we’re dealing with.”   
  
“Alright, let’s get to work then,” Clara said. “What’s the riddle?”   
  
Ben pulled out a scroll and read it out loud:   
  
_“What can run, but never walks; has a mouth, but never talks; has a head but never weeps; has a bed, but never sleeps?”  
  
_ Clara gave them both a long look. “How long have you been working on this?” she asked.   
  
“Four days,” Jacob answered.   
  
She gave Merula a look and this time they did laugh. “Lord, you two are thick.” Merula said.   
  
“Oh, really?” Jacob said, sidling up to her, “and what makes you so sure that you can figure it out?” he asked.   
  
“Because the answer is a river,” Clara said.   
  
“Exactly,” Merula added. “A river runs, has a mouth and a head, and I daresay it has a riverbed as well.”   
  
Jacob laughed. “Where were you four days ago?” he gave her arm a squeeze and then quickly pulled away. “Umm, okay so that’s settled. Now we just need to get in there.”   
  
"Easy enough," Ben said with a laugh.   
  
“Let’s pack up and head out in ten minutes,” Clara said, taking charge of the situation.   
  
“Agreed. Clara and I can lead," Ben said, "and Jacob, you and Merula can follow, okay?”   
  
“Agreed,” they all said in unison.   
_  
_They set out shortly after and approached the sphinx with caution. She was impressed that they answered on one try and after whipping her tail at them and sending a snide comment towards the boys regarding their intelligence, she allowed them to pass unscathed.  
  
Having successfully moved past the sphinx, the group was able to finally access the ruins of the Pyramid of Djedefre. There was a debate raging among the archeologists and historians about whether the pyramid had been completed and then destroyed, or if it had never been completed at all. Clara was inclined to believe the former, but after what happened later that day, she would rather not think of the Djedefre at all.   
  
As they entered the ruins, she could sense there was something off immediately.   
  
“Something isn’t right,” Clara said. “Can you feel the disturbance?”   
  
“Yes,” Merula answered from behind her.   
  
“What do you think, Pip?” Jacob asked. “A creature or a human?”   
  
“Maybe both?” Ben added.  
  
Clara nodded. “We need to be careful. I haven’t felt anything like this since…”   
  
“The buried vault.” Merula finished.   
  
“Yes,” Clara answered.   
  
“We better not have to battle a dragon this time,” Jacob said bitterly.   
  
They walked a few more paces and came upon a caved in corridor with stone blocking the way forward.   
  
“Let’s blast through it,” Jacob said, his wand aloft. Clara quickly grabbed him.   
  
“Stop,” she said, “we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”  
  
“Pip, you’re no fun these days,” he joked, but then quickly stopped after Merula smacked his shoulder.  
  
She rolled her eyes. “We need to think before we act, Jacob. Otherwise someone will get hurt over our stupidity.”   
  
"Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in defeat.  
  
“What should we do?” Ben asked, turning their attention back to to the corridor.   
  
“ _Homenum Revelio,”_ Clara said. When nothing happened, she turned to the group. “No human presence. But it doesn’t reveal creatures…”   
  
_“Revelio,”_ Merula said. The wall of stone in front of them glowed momentarily. “Look,” she said, drawing their attention to the wall. “There’s something here.”   
  
“Good thing I didn’t blow it up, then,” Jacob said, shrugging.  
  
 _“Aparcieum,”_ said Ben and the wall glowed once more, revealing writing. He took a step closer. “It’s written in Ancient Runes. Clara,” he said turning to her, “do you have your book?”   
  
She nodded and pulled it out. “Here,” she handed the book to him.   
  
Ben worked at the wall for what must have been an hour, shouting random instructions for Merula to write down.   
  
Finally, Ben took a step back and grabbed the piece of parchment from Merula. “I think this is it.” He cleared his throat and read aloud, _“Be careful ye who enters here, because what awaits is but your greatest fear.”  
  
_ “Ben…” Merula said, “I think you should stop.”   
  
“No, Ben,” urged Jacob, “finish it. We need to know.”   
  
Ben looked back and in a voice unlike his own, _“What is fear, but another hurdle, but take a step and your blood may curdle,”_ He finished with a cackle.   
  
“What the…” Jacob started and then…  
  
BANG  
  
The wall exploded; Clara tackled Ben while Jacob threw himself over Merula. There were more crashing sounds and then what Clara thought were human voices. She felt her body leave the ground and she was thrown up and pinned against the wall. She couldn’t make any sense of the noises; she could barely even keep her eyes open. There was a crack, which she could only assume was her ribs based on the blinding pain she felt, and then she was on the ground once more.   
  
As she lay there, she saw the faint outline of a boot beside her head and then a raspy voice said, “What you seek is not yours to have. Leave from this place, or you will be sorry.” And then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone.   
  
Clara tried to roll over but felt soft hands on her, urging her to stay put. “Don’t move too quickly,” said Merula.   
  
“Where are Ben and Jacob?” Clara whispered.   
  
“I’m here,” Jacob said. He was slumped up against the wall, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead. Clara tried to move again but Merula kept her down. “I’m fine,” Jacob said trying to assure her. “I definitely broke my leg but I am fine.”   
  
“Where is Ben?” Clara asked again.   
  
Merula looked really worried, but pointed towards the wall.   
  
Clara looked over and saw the outline of a body on the ground, a body that wasn’t moving.   
  
“Ben!” Clara yelled, finally getting up this time despite Merula’s protest. She ran to Ben, flinging herself onto the ground to check his pulse. “Merula, we need to get him out of here. He’s barely breathing.” She waved her wand and lifted Ben off of the ground. “Take Jacob,” she directed, “and you better bloody listen to her,” she added, glaring at Jacob.   
  
The slowly walked back out of the ruins, arriving at the campsite where a medi-wizard came running towards them. “We heard the noise, what happened in there?”   
  
“I’m not entirely sure,” Clara answered, “But Copper needs your attention immediately.” She lowered Ben onto the stretcher that they had ready and they took him away to the medical tent. Clara turned to Jacob once more. “Go with them, now. Get that fixed. Merula,” she added, “go with them please and make sure he bloody well listens.”   
  
“Where are you going?” Merula demanded.   
  
“To contact Bill. Something is wrong here, it wasn’t an ancient curse,” Clara said. “it must have been placed recently.”   
  
“I’ll come find you after?” Merula asked, still holding onto Jacob who was slowly losing consciousness.   
  
Clara nodded. “Now go.”   
  
\---  
  
 _April 11th, 1995  
London, England  
Gringotts Headquarters _  
  
"Bill! I am not sure what the bloody hell is going on here, but it's something really bad." Clara said, pacing around his office. She had arrived via portkey no more than two minutes before and was already creating track marks in Bill's carpet. "Someone did that recently, they used Celtic symbols as opposed to Arabic symbols which is inconsistent with the area and the message was revealed using fairly simple charms, meaning there wasn't any additional protection."   
  
"You think it was a trap?" Bill asked.   
  
"Yes. There's something bigger going on and they wanted us to easily find it while simultaneously trying to hurt us," Clara said firmly.   
  
"Well, then there's only one answer. We need to keep looking," Bill said. He sat down at the desk and pulled out a map of Europe. "There was a disturbance in Northern Europe, similar to the one you experienced here. I need you to go investigate it."   
  
Clara looked at him incredulously. "No," she said.   
  
He looked up at her, "Excuse me?" he asked.   
  
"I'm done," Clara said, surprising herself. "I'm not doing this again." She sat down opposite Bill. "I just watched a wall explode and almost kill one of my best friends. My brother could have lost his leg... I can't do it anymore. It feels like it used to, Bill. Like when I was targeted and everything kept happening to you all."   
  
"Clara, I... I don't know what to say. It is part of the job - sometimes these things can happen," Bill said softly. "But Ben and Jacob are going to be alright. When I spoke with Ben he said he was feeling good. We agreed that for time being he will be transferred back to London and will be on desk duty until he has healed completely."   
  
"And I am happy to hear it," Clara said.   
  
"But you still want to quit?" Bill asked.   
  
"I just need... I need to think." Clara said, nearing tears. "I just need to go."   
  
"Go where?" he asked, worriedly.   
  
And without thinking, she replied, "Scotland."   
  
\---  
  



	16. The Picture and the Proposal

CHAPTER 16: The Picture and the Proposal  
 _  
  
July 1 st, 1992  
  
Pip,  
  
It’s official. I am going to be a curse breaker too. They finally approved my courses and with a recommendation from Dumbledore, they agreed to let me start training at the end of the month. I hear the examiner is tough, so any tips you can send me, please do!  
  
There is a chance that I could join you in Egypt, considering the amount of work Gringotts does there. Regardless of where I end up, however, we will make sure we see each other. I have years of big brother work to make up for.  
  
See you soon,  
  
Jacob  
  
\---  
  
January 7th, 1993  
  
Pip,  
  
I am coming to Egypt in a week. New assignment. They want me working with a unit close to yours so we will be seeing a lot of each other I am sure.  
  
We have so many mysteries left to uncover, you and I.  
  
See you soon,  
  
Jacob  
  
\---  
  
May 3rd, 1993  
  
Pip,  
  
I am sure you heard – I am currently back at camp after being sanctioned one too many times at the last site. Who knew gambling with goblins was a bad idea?  
  
I am kidding just so you know. I bet you’re crushing the letter in your hands right now, trying not to reprimand me. There was also an issue with an order… well I suppose I was the issue… in that I didn’t follow the order and almost blew up a pyramid.  
  
I can’t help myself sometimes. But you know that. The impulsivity runs in both of us.  
  
I’ll be back at camp for awhile. Please visit when you can.  
  
Jacob  
  
PS: they gave me this picture when I got back to camp and I thought you should have it.  
  
\---  
  
October 31st, 1994  
  
Pip,  
  
Happy Hallows Eve. I would say be careful of any werewolves or vampires, but I suppose there are worse creatures to come across aren't there?  
  
I heard a rumour that you are dating someone. Is there something you want to tell me? Or are things still as we discussed the last time we spoke?  
  
In the spirit of honesty, I guess I should tell you that I started dating someone too. I think it's going well, but I've never made it this far before. One week is the new record!  
  
In all seriousness little sister, I long for the days where we can be old and happy, and not always be focused on curses and pyramids. Some day, pip, some day.  
  
See you soon,  
  
Jacob  
  
\---  
  
April 21st, 1995  
Oslo, Norway  
_  
 _  
Pip,  
  
I heard from Bill that you requested a new assignment out of Egypt. I don’t blame you after what happened and I know you must be worried but I promise you I am okay. I am just sorry that Ben had to go through that. It was a stupid mistake and I am just thankful that no one else was badly hurt. I won’t be back in Egypt, they’re assigning me elsewhere but I can’t divulge the location. I will send letters when I can.  
  
I know I haven’t always been there when you’ve needed me and I know I will never be able to make up for how much you’ve done for me. You’ve never given up on me, even when I wanted to give up on myself. _  
  
_There was another matter I wanted to talk to you about, a matter that may be awkward for a brother to discuss with his sister. But the truth is, you are the best friend I have and the only person I’ve ever trusted. I am in love and I intend to marry her. I bought a ring and everything. She doesn’t know yet, but I am going to ask her the next time I see her. I hope that the next letter I send will bear the good news. I promise you’ll like her.  
  
Be careful, wherever you are. We’ll see each other soon.  
  
Jacob  
_  
\--- _  
  
August 11 th, 1997  
Snyde Manor  
  
  
_Clara pulled the picture out of her pocket and traced the worn edges again. She looked at Jacob’s face, smiling while he pulled Clara close to him. She was laughing in the picture too. It was the way she always wanted to remember him. They took it on their first assignment together in Egypt. They had found a particularly nasty curse that had been locking unaware tourists in the pyramids. In fact, at one point they thought that one of Bill’s brothers was a victim of the curse, but in the end it was the Weasley twins who had trapped him. They had all laughed at that, Jacob laughing the hardest of all.  
  
She heard a creak in the corridor. It could be Ben; Clara was convinced he hadn’t slept at all since he arrived a few days previously. He was worried about Penny, alone in Diagon Alley but they decided it would be suspicious if she left right away. Clara was worried too, but she could also tell there was something he wasn’t telling them.  
  
“How are you?” came a voice from the doorway. She turned and saw Merula walk through the door and take the seat across from her.  
  
“I’ve had better days, but I’ve also had worse,” Clara answered. “I should be asking you that too.”  
  
“Last year was worse.” Merula stated, conveying little emotion. “I know why didn’t come back, Clara,” she said, “but you also left the rest of us to suffer alone.”  
  
“I know, it was selfish,” Clara said.  
  
“You don’t need to explain it, no one blames you, but it was hard on all of us,” Merula said simply. “I just wish you would have written, there was so much I needed to say. There was so much Ben needed to say, especially after what they had gone through before.”  
  
“I know,” Clara said. “You can still say them, in fact I would love it if you did.”  
  
Merula shook her head. “It’s too late now, Clara.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Digging up the past only brings pain, and I think we’ve had enough of that, don’t you?” Merula said.  
  
Clara shrugged, “I suppose so.”  
  
Merula got up and walked to the cabinet near the window. “Drink?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Merula pulled out two butterbeer. “I’m running low it seems. How much firewhiskey did you drink?  
  
“Me? I haven’t had a drop all week,” Clara replied.  
  
They looked at each other with worried expressions; then Clara asked, “Have you seen Ben?”  
  
“Not in days,” Merula answered. They got up and both went to his room and knocked.  
  
“Ben?” Clara asked.  
  
“Ben are you in there? Answer us?” Merula added.  
  
After a moment they banged on the door again. Finally they heard movement behind the door.  
  
“Oh piss off,” grumbled Ben. They heard a bottle crash to the ground and Ben stumbled to open the door. “What do you want?” he slurred.  
  
“Ben? What are you doing?” Clara asked.  
  
“What does it look like, Clara?” he said.  
  
“It looks like you’re being a useless prick, that’s what,” Merula said. Clara shot her a warning look.  
  
“Ben, we’re just checking that you’re okay,” Clara added, trying to soften Merula’s bluntness.  
  
“I am a useless prick though, aren’t I? I can’t do anything, I can’t go outside, and I can’t do anything to help you. So why not?” Ben said, slumping against the door. “Better that I just stay out of your way.”  
  
“We need you, Ben. I’m going to need you really soon, to help me protect people,” Clara said. “So you need to sober up. And do it fast.”  
  
Ben scoffed, “That’s not likely.”  
  
“Listen, Ben, today is a hard day on all of us,” Merula began before being cut off.  
  
“Oh is it?” Ben spat, “But we never talk about it. You wouldn’t let us.”  
  
“Ben that’s not fair,” Clara chimed in.  
  
“And YOU.” Ben yelled, turning to face her. “You just left us. You left us to pick up the pieces and you didn’t even write to us. You didn’t even show up to the memorial. You don’t get to tell me how I am supposed to feel.”  
  
Clara stayed silent for a moment then she took a deep breath and said in the calmest tone she could muster, “We all handle things differently, Ben. But don’t you dare tell me how I am allowed to grieve for my brother. You don’t get to decide that for me. I know I should have come back, I know I should have done more, but I did what I needed to do to survive it.”  
  
Ben wavered slightly but continued to stare daggers at her. He began to say something but Merula cut him off quickly.  
  
“Ben, if you don’t sober up and stop drinking all of my whiskey I am going to punch you in the face,” Merula said calmly.  
  
Ben and Clara both stared at her, “You wouldn’t,” Ben said.  
  
Merula glared at him. “Really? Has that bet ever worked for you?”  
  
Ben’s shoulders dropped. “Fine.” He reached behind the door and grabbed the bottle of Ogden’s sitting on the floor. He gave it back to Merula.  
  
“Thank you. Now go shower, you smell like actual garbage.”  
  
He slammed the door in their faces. “Well, at least he stopped drinking,” Merula said. “Are you okay?” she asked.  
  
“Yes, I’m fine,” she lied. “I think I need to get out for a moment.”  
  
“Of course,” Merula said. “I’m going to work on some things in the study. Come find me later?”  
  
Clara nodded and then strode down the hallway. About halfway to the door she turned again and said, “Hey, Merula?”  
  
“Yes, O’Connor?” she replied.  
  
“I never got the second letter,” she said.  
  
“The second letter?” Merula asked, confused.  
  
“In the letter he sent to me after Egypt, he said he was going to ask,” Clara began, “but I never got the next letter. The one with the answer.”  
  
Merula continued to stare at her from the doorway of the study. “I’m still not sure what you’re talking about, O’Connor?”  
  
“Well, I guess what I’m asking is, what was the answer to his proposal?” Clara said.  
  
She gave her a long look and then replied, “The answer was yes.” Then she walked into the study, closing the door behind her.  
  
\---  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to move the plot forward while also filling in some gaps has been proving to be quick tricky! Hopefully you aren't all bored of all the dialogue and that it's still enjoyable!


	17. The Scottish National Team

**CHAPTER 17: The Scottish National Team**

_August 9_ _th_ _, 1997  
_ _Wigtown, Scotland  
  
_

“Watch yourself, Skye,” cried Ethan from the pitch, “you take another bludger and I’m going to have Gwenog here trying to kill me. The bloody harpy is barely letting you play, you need to be careful.”

“How can I be careful? It’s bloody quidditch, Da’,” Skye answered while the medi-wtich tended to her latest injury.

“Still,” Ethan commented, “I don’t want you taking any stupid risks, especially now.”

“What does that mean?” Skye asked.

He sighed and took a seat beside her. “It’s been a long time since Scotland made it to the Quidditch World Cup, Skye.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and added, “My biggest regret is not being able to bring us there on the pitch, but now that responsibility lies on your shoulders. We can’t have another Luxembourg.”

Skye gave him a serious look, “You can’t actually believe that I can bring us there alone,” she retorted.

“Of course not, but you are the best chance we have. You’re the best chaser this country has seen since Catriona McCormack herself,” he said. “You need to lead this team, and most importantly, you need to stay healthy. No stupid risks, okay?”

She nodded but then added, “I can’t help a stray bludger, though, you know that.” 

“Aye, that’s true. But you know that’s not what I meant,” Ethan said. “I meant keep your head down, stay out of trouble, and keep your personal life private.”

Skye looked up at him, “Dad, what are you…”

He gave his daughter a serious look. “You know what I mean, Skye. That stuff can wait,”

Skye looked at her feet and replied, “Okay.”

Satisfied, Ethan got up and patted her on the shoulder. “Now buck up and get back out there. They’ll follow your lead.”

She nodded once more and got up, taking her place back on the pitch.

\---

The weeks passed and Skye went back and forth between Wales and Scotland; she was grateful that she could throw herself completely into quidditch. Between Amanda’s startling confession and Clara’s sudden reappearance in her life, she was thankful for a reason to stay away from Holyhead on her weekends.

She was also trying to avoid her friends for a bit too. After telling Chiara, she felt she needed to tell Rath as well, and while she was disappointed that she kept her in the dark, she had been very understanding of why. Truthfully, Skye was embarrassed about how long she had kept the secret and she felt that some time away, while perhaps a bit cowardly, would benefit her greatly.

However, not all aspects of being home was easier; her father was just as much of a tyrant as Gwenog was when it came to quidditch, despite his constant griping about his Holyhead counterpart. His new position as Scotland’s manager was just another She found herself longing for the quiet moments on the beach where she could just sit and listen to the waves crashing on the shore.

The first night she arrived home, her mother took her on a walk down to the shore and asked her how things were going with Amanda. She tried to dance around the subject at first, but her mother knew her too well and by the end of it, she had spilled every last detail.

Her mother was shocked, given how much she liked Amanda. By the end of the conversation she still couldn’t believe that Amanda would do something like that. However, when it came to Clara, her mother had her reservations.  
  


_“So how do you feel about the situation?” she had asked her._

_“To be honest, Mum, I am just glad I finally know the truth. It doesn’t change the past two years, but I am glad I know that Clara tried to reach out. It gives me hope,” she confessed._

_“Hope that you will be together again?” her mother pressed._

_“No,” she answered, “hope that we can just be friends again.”_

_“Do you think that’s smart? You were so hurt the last time, Skye,” her mother continued._

_“I’m not even thinking about that, Mum,” she had lied. “I just miss her. And I’m glad she’s back home to be quite honest.”  
  
_

As the weeks pressed on, however, Skye found herself thinking more and more about Clara. She wondered where she was, what she was doing, and who she was doing it with. She would wake up thinking about Clara and fall asleep doing the same thing. She tried to convince herself each time that it was nothing more than her happiness about seeing her friend once again but lying to herself was proving to be quite a challenge.

On her third weekend in Wigtown, her father arrived at the pitch with the news that they would be bringing on a new reserve keeper, someone she knew well. Ethan strode into the locker room with a tall, burly, and well-built young man.

“Attention squad, I just had a meeting with the manager of Puddlemere United and he has agreed to allow his keeper to take time off to represent his country. Most of you will recognize Mr. Wood from the pitch, but I believe a couple of you know Oliver from his time at Hogwarts as well.” Ethan gestured to Oliver Wood who, Skye couldn’t help but notice, had finally grown into his frame. “Give him a warm welcome, and then pelt him with quaffles. Let’s get to work, team!”

The team shuffled and grabbed their brooms, some made their way to Oliver and shook his hands, and others gave him a good pat on the back. The other reserve keepers were less than happy to see him, considering how well Ethan seemed to like him. She made her way over to congratulate him.

“Wood!” she exclaimed, “Glad to see you suiting up for us. Will be nice to have a fellow Gryffindor on the squad.”  
  
He laughed and grasped her hand, “Not suiting up yet, Parkin, but I’m grateful for the chance,” he said. “Your father has been very kind.”   
  
“Don’t get used to it,” she laughed. “Just wait until we’re losing.”   
  
“I play for Puddlemere, Parkin, I’m used to it,” he grinned and then grabbed his broom. “Shall we?” he asked.   
  
Skye nodded and they took flight.   
  
After training wrapped up and her teammates headed off to shower and fuel up before the evening session, Skye took the opportunity to fly a few laps by herself to clear her head of the ever pressing thoughts of Clara. A few laps in, she felt a presence behind her, a presence that soon glided to her side.   
  
“Parkin, shouldn’t you be resting?” Oliver asked, tossing her a quaffle.   
  
She caught it and laughed, “Rest? Never.”   
  
He chuckled as they slowed their pace to a near standstill. “You haven’t changed much, have you?”   
  
Skye shook her head, “Not in the important things I don’t think,” she confirmed. “As I recall, you were just as much of a nutter as I was.”   
  
“Still am,” he shrugged, “but I don’t get a chance to speak much these days.”   
  
“Puddlemere isn’t a good fit?” she asked.   
  
“On the pitch, yes. Off the pitch…” he trailed off.   
  
She was curious now, “What do you mean?”   
  
He glanced over at her, “I’m not sure I should say…” he halted, but then turned his broom around to face her. “There are some within the team that… how can I put this, don’t think what’s happening is such a bad thing.”   
  
“What’s happening… as in, You-Know-Who rooting out muggle-borns?” she asked, astounded.   
  
He nodded solemnly. “It has become apparent that if this continues, I will have to leave the team.”   
  
“But Oliver, you’re not a muggle-born, right?” she asked.   
  
“No, I am not,” he confirmed, “but there comes a point where we must decide between taking action or watching from the sideline.”   
  
She thought about this for a moment, “So when the time comes, what would you do?”   
  
He gave her a long look, “I would fight, Skye. I would fight for what’s right, and not take the easy way out.”   
  
“I wish I were that confident about a decision,” Skye admitted. “I feel pulled in every direction these days. Quidditch seems like the least important thing in the world.”   
  
“Admittedly it is, but we must keep doing it,” he said, stealing the quaffle back from her with a lunge.   
  
She laughed. “Some days I wish Charlie and I hadn't left after our sixth year. We probably would have won again. Created a bonafide dynasty.”   
  
He laughed, “Clara did admirably, but we weren’t much help in the talent department. The Weasleys' were a menace and she was left dealing with a bunch of children playing at a competition.” Skye flinched at her mention, which evidently Oliver noticed. “Have you seen her lately?” he asked.   
  
“As a matter of fact, I have,” she said calmly.   
  
“It’s a shame she didn’t go the professional route. She would have done well.”   
  
She nodded but then added, “It’s true, but she always had much bigger plans than any of us.”   
  
“And you, Skye?” he asked, “What are your plans?”   
  
She looked at him, stunned, and replied, “I honestly don’t know.”   
  
He laughed and then said with a smile, “Something to think about, then.” He tossed the quaffle back to her which she caught with ease, and he flew off.   
  
“Yes,” she said, “Something to think about.”   
  
\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized my timeline math was not great in my last story when it came to Oliver Wood. He was a fifth year when Harry was in first year so that means he would have been a third year and likely on the team during Skye and Clara's sixth year considering the books alluded to the fact that he was captain in his fourth year. Soooo just had to add him now. 
> 
> Also, my apologies for the hiatus - I took a vacation from my lengthy vacation. So on that note, I hope you all had a safe and happy holiday, and I will keep the chapters coming!


	18. A Change in the Winds

CHAPTER 18: A Change in the Winds   
  
  
_ Holyhead, Wales _ _   
_ _ September 1st, 1997 _   
  
  
Skye returned to Wales after the final summer training session with the National Team. They would reconvene in October, but with the season approaching, Ethan Parkin agreed that they would all be better served with real competition. When Skye arrived back at her apartment, she was greeted with a pile of letters that she had neglected to open along with some new ones. As she sifted through the letters from supporters, sponsors, and otherwise non pressing correspondents, she finally landed on the most shocking mail of all, the latest Daily Prophet headline: 

  
**_SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER_**  
  
 _Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed Headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor._ _  
  
_ _  
_Skye read it over and over again. Logically, the next in line for headmaster should have been McGonagall, after all, she had been the deputy headmistress for, well, longer than Skye even knew. It didn’t make sense that Snape would be promoted that quickly, unless…  
  
She grabbed a quill and wrote a quick note. She roused her owl from its perch. “Up you get, Agnes,” she said affectionately to the owl who did not return the sentiment. “You need to find her, now.” She tied the scroll to her leg and brought her to the window. “It’s urgent.” Agnes hooted begrudgingly but then took off.   
  
Skye paced around the house for a while, praying that there would be a quick reply. She was driving herself mad and wearing a hole in the carpet, but she continued for an hour or so before finally sitting down. _This is what Oliver meant, isn’t it?_ She asked herself. _He must be interfering at Hogwarts now and McGonagall would not be an ideal person to have in charge._ _  
_ _  
_She couldn’t sit around and wait, she needed to go find Chiara to discuss what this meant. She unlocked the window, leaving a large enough gap for Agnes to slip through when she returned. It could be hours or days, there was no way of really knowing. She grabbed her coat and headed out the door before quickly disapparating to the clinic. When she arrived, it suddenly dawned on her that there was another person she might encounter there; unfortunately, she saw Skye first.  
  
“Skye?” Amanda said, her voice shaky.   
  
“Oh, Amanda,” Skye began, “I’m sorry, I was coming to see -”   
  
“It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting to see you either,” Amanda said, cutting her off, “but I’m glad you’re here. I really wanted to talk to you.”   
  
“Amanda, I am so sorry, but I really don’t have the time to talk, I’m looking for Chiara,” Skye said bluntly.   
  
“Oh,” Amanda said, crossing her arms, “well, she’s not here.”   
  
Skye looked at her, waiting for her to say something else. When she didn’t Skye cleared her throat and said, “Well, do you know where I can find her?”   
  
“No,” Amanda said. “I haven’t seen her in a few days. Maybe check her apartment.”   
  
“Okay, thank you, Amanda,” Skye turned to leave, but Amanda caught her arm.  
  
“We need to talk, before you go,” Amanda said.   
  
“Amanda I really don’t think we do,” Skye said firmly.   
  
“It’s not fair for you to just cut me out like that, I deserve a chance to explain myself,” Amanda said.   
  
Skye looked at her and wanted to explode. But given the very public situation she found herself in she had no other choice but to say, “Okay, come over to mine this evening. I’ll give you a chance to explain, but that’s it.”   
  
Amanda beamed, “Fantastic. I will see you then.”   
  
Skye nodded and then turned and started running up the path back towards the harbour. She made it to Chiara’s apartment and sprinted around the back, knocking like a madwoman. She heard a rustle inside but no one came to the door. She knocked again, missing the second time as the door swung open, almost hitting Chiara square in the face.  
  
“Bloody hell, Skye! Impatient much!” Chiara exclaimed.   
  
“I need to talk to you,” Skye said, stepping through the doorway. She took a look around and then stopped, “Wait, are you going somewhere?” she asked, taking in the rucksack and the supplies laid out on the table.   
  
“Oh that, umm,” Chiara began.   
  
“Chiara,” Skye said, “you can tell me.”   
  
Chiara sighed, “You’re right. Yes I am going somewhere. I have to go somewhere where I am safe.”   
  
“Why aren’t you safe here?” Skye asked. “And if things are to happen, you aren’t muggle-born, you will be safe.”   
  
Chiara’s eyes began to water, something that rarely happened, and immediately alarmed Skye, “What is it?” she asked Chiara.   
  
“I can’t… I can’t say,” Chiara sputtered.   
  
“Yes, you can, it’s me, Chi.”   
  
“It’s just, it’s not safe for me here,” Chiara said, gathering herself for a moment, “and I need to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”   
  
Skye stared at her friend for a moment and then pulled her into a hug. “Whatever you’re scared of, you can tell me, I can help you.”   
  
Chiara cried into her shoulder and Skye held her tightly, letting her friend cry until she could cry no longer. Finally, Chiara peeled herself from Skye’s shoulder and said, “I have a secret too. Something I’ve been keeping from you, well, since the day we met.”  
  
Skye gave her a long look and said, “Whatever it is, Chi, I’m here for you.”   
  
Chiara’s shoulders dropped and she pulled her notebook out from her rucksack, handing it to Skye.  
  
“What’s this?” she asked.   
  
“Turn the pages.”   
  
Skye peeled the cover back and saw a detailed symptoms chart and a list of injuries. She turned another page and saw a calendar with the moon cycles, and on the final page, she saw the instructions for a particular potion.   
  
“Wolfsbane Potion…” Skye began. She looked up at her friend and it dawned on her. “Chiara, are you…?”  
  
“Yes,” she said, staring at her feet.   
  
Skye wasn’t sure what to say, “Chiara, I… when?”  
  
“When I was seven, I was playing in the garden behind my house when I was attacked by Fenrir Greyback. He bit me that night and from that point on, I’ve been afflicted with this… terrible curse,” Chiara told her.   
  
“How… how did no one know at school?” Skye asked.   
  
“Dumbledore knew of my affliction,” Chara said, sitting down at the table. “He had Professor Snape brew Wolfsbane for me throughout my time at Hogwarts.”   
  
Skye sat down with her, “In our second year… there was a student that was attacked by a werewolf… was that?”  
  
“It wasn’t me. In fact in the end it wasn’t a werewolf at all. They were attacked by a hippogriff in the forest, but in the confusion and darkness, they assumed the talons were claws.”   
  
“And in our first year, during the Hallowe’en feast, when Greyback found his way on the grounds. Did he attack you again?”   
  
“He tried,” she admitted. “But realistically, he was just trying to recruit me again.”   
  
“Again?” Skye asked.   
  
Chiara sighed, “That night, the night he attacked me as a child, he tried to recruit me for his army, but was driven away by my parents.”   
  
Skye reached over and grabbed her arm. “This changes nothing, Chiara. I’m just so sorry you felt that you couldn’t share this with me. You must have felt so alone, all those years.”   
  
Chiara looked up, “It was lonely, at times, but I found people that accepted me. People like you, people like Clara.”   
  
Skye flinched again at the mention of Clara’s name.   
  
Chiara continued. “She saved me, you know. That’s how we became friends.”   
  
Skye gave her a confused look. “What do you mean?”   
  
“Clara. She tried to protect me when Greyback attacked me after the feast. She then helped me protect me when students started to think there was a werewolf attacking students the following year,” Chiara admitted.   
  
“So she knew, the entire time?” Skye said.   
  
“Yes, she knew,” Chiara began before continuing, “and honestly, Skye, you can’t be mad at her for that. It wasn’t her secret to tell.”   
  
Skye squeezed her arm again, “No, I’m not mad at her at all. I’m just realizing the depth of her loyalty.”   
  
“She’s the most loyal person I’ve ever met, Skye.” Chiara said seriously. “Even now she…”   
  
“She’s trying to protect you, right?” Skye asked, “Of course she is. That’s what the two of you were talking about.”   
  
Chiara looked up and then admitted defeat, “Yes. I’m going to stay somewhere where I can be safe. Somewhere she arranged.”   
  
“Where?” Skye asked.   
  
“You know I can’t tell you. Besides, I’m not the secret keeper. I can’t tell you,” Chiara said.   
  
Skye sighed, and then smiled. “One of these days, I’ll finally get to know something.” They both laughed.   
  
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Chiara asked tentatively.   
  
“Of course, Chiara. You didn’t ask for this affliction, and it doesn’t change who you are,” she patted Chiara’s arm again. “You don’t have to worry about that.”   
  
Chiara smiled and then immediately something dawned on her. “Skye, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”   
  
“What?” Skye asked.   
  
“The reason why you were trying to beat down my door,” Chiara asked with a laugh.   
  
“Oh!” Skye realized and pulled out the paper. “Look at this.”   
  
Chiara read the paper and looked up with a horrified expression on her face. “Snape? Headmaster?”   
  
“Suspicious, no?” Skye asked.   
  
“Very suspicious. My guess is that He is interfering at Hogwarts,” Chiara said. “You know the rumour, right?”   
  
Skye nodded her head. “That Snape was the one that did it?”   
  
“Yes,” Chiara said. “There has to be more to the story. They’ve been painting Harry as a villain in the paper as well.”   
  
Skye nodded again. “Do you think Snape really did it? I know he was awful at times, but I never thought he would be a murderer.”   
  
“Me neither. He helped me as a student, albeit begrudgingly at times, but he never missed a potion,” Chiara said.   
  
“I wrote to Clara,” Skye admitted. “I can’t be in the dark anymore.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Chiara said.   
  
“I mean that,” Skye began, “I don’t want to stay on the sideline anymore. I want to help. I want to fight.”   
  
Chiara gave her a long look. “You know she won’t let you.”   
  
“What do you mean let?” Skye said.   
  
“She won’t let you risk your life,” Chiara said firmly.   
  
Skye rolled her eyes, “I’m an adult, Chiara, I can make my own decisions.”   
  
“Skye, listen to me,” Chiara said seriously, “She will do everything in her power to protect you. It will take her focus away from the task she was given.”   
  
“I can’t sit idly by anymore, not like I’ve done every single time before. I don’t see why it should affect her tasks,” Skye said, frustrated.   
  
Chiara shook her head. “After all this time, you still don’t see it.”   
  
“What? What don’t I see?”   
  
“That she loves you. That she will always love you,” Chiara said simply.   
  
Skye didn’t know what to say.  
  
\---  
  
Skye walked back to her apartment from Chiara’s that evening, ruminating on what she had said. She walked past the harbour and saw the bench she used to sit at, waiting for Clara to come back to her. She sighed, and continued her walk home. When she arrived she saw Amanda waiting outside the door.   
  
“Hi,” Amanda said shyly. “I am so glad that you wanted to talk.”   
  
“I wouldn’t say that,” Skye said, rather bluntly. “But nonetheless.” She waved her wand and opened the door.   
  
Amanda came in and awkwardly sat down at the table. “Skye, I -”  
  
“Do you want a drink? I need one.” Skye said, pouring herself a glass of firewhiskey.   
  
“Oh, umm, okay.” Amanda said, “Skye, listen I just want to say I’m sorry.”   
  
Skye walked over and placed the glass down in front of her. “You’ve said that many times before.” She sat down opposite her.   
  
“I know, but I needed to say it again,” Amanda admitted.   
  
Skye took a long drink, letting the alcohol burn slowly. “I just don’t understand why.”   
  
“I was jealous, to be completely honest,” Amanda said, her eyes downcast. “I had been interested in you for years, ever since school really, and you never showed me any interest back. So when you finally did, I was scared that it was fleeting.”   
  
“But why would you open a letter from Clara?” Skye said, “It just doesn’t add up.”   
  
“I knew about the two of you,” Amanda said, “in school. I saw it that night at the Three Broomsticks. You couldn’t get out of there fast enough after she left.”   
  
Skye took another drink.   
  
Amanda sighed, “It’s easy to put two and two together when you know what to look for.”   
  
“So why didn’t you say anything about it?” Skye said, “All the comments you made about her maybe being gay, about how attractive she was, and flirting with her at the wedding. You knew the whole time and were trying to provoke me.”   
  
“You’re right. I wanted to hear the truth from you,” Amanda admitted. “It was inappropriate and I am so sorry about that.” She reached out and grabbed Skye’s hand. “Truly, I am so sorry.”   
  
Skye sighed. “I know you’re sorry. And I understand it, I do. But it doesn’t change anything.”   
  
Amanda’s shoulders dropped, “I know. I don’t deserve you, I see it now.”   
  
Skye looked up at her, “It’s not about deserving me. You are an amazing person, Amanda. The feelings I had were real and I thought things were going really well. But the reality is that you broke my trust and I can’t let that go.”   
  
“Do you love her?” Amanda asked.   
  
“What?” Skye said, knowing exactly who she was talking about.   
  
“Do you still love Clara?” Amanda asked seriously.   
  
Skye laughed and took a drink, “It’s a non issue, Amanda.”   
  
“Well, I just want you to be happy, Skye, so if you love her…” Amanda continued.   
  
“I told you. It’s a non issue. There hasn’t been anything between us since before you and I went out on our first date. The wedding was the first time I saw her in years, we haven’t written, I was just as shocked as anyone to see her.”   
  
“But she was why you left?” Amanda asked.   
  
Skye knew there was no use in denying it at this point, “Yes, she was the reason.”   
  
“Did something happen?” Amanda pressed.   
  
“No,” Skye said firmly. “It was shocking to see her.”   
  
Amanda finally took a sip of her drink, making a face as she drank it. “Ugh, I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”   
  
Skye chuckled, “Because it helps.”   
  
Amanda sighed, “I don’t want there to be any animosity between us, Skye. I care for you so deeply.”   
  
“I care about you too, Amanda,” Skye admitted, “and I certainly don’t want there to be anything bad between us.”   
  
Amanda took another drink, “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”   
  
Skye laughed, “You know why.”   
  
“She asked you to keep it quiet?” Amanda asked.   
  
“The opposite, actually. I asked her to keep it quiet.”   
  
“One of these days you need to let yourself be happy,” Amanda said, taking another drink.  
  
Skye sighed, “I know.”   
  
“Well, I hope the next time love comes knocking, you don’t run from it,” Amanda said a smile.   
  
All of a sudden there was a knock at the door. “Who could that be?” she said out loud. She got up and heard a hoot from the window; she hadn’t even noticed that Agnes was back. Finally it dawned on her.   
  
_Shit,_ she thought.  
  
“Should you get that?” Amanda asked, swirling her drink around the glass.   
  
“Umm, yes I suppose.” She got up and walked to the door. She opened it slowly and just as she suspected, Clara was waiting on the step.   
  
\---


	19. You Can't Go Home Again

CHAPTER 19: You Can't Go Home Again  
  
  
 _September 1st, 1997  
Snyde Manor  
_  
  
The next few weeks passed without consequence at Snyde Manor. Clara continued her research, attempted to contact a few of the names on the list, and met with Remus once more, in the cover of darkness. He didn’t want to meet at Ted and Andromeda’s again, which was suspicious to Clara, though she did not press. She was becoming more and more sure regarding her assumption that Remus was not altogether happy about the baby.   
  
Back at the manor, she and Ben found herselves mostly alone. Penny came a few times a week, but they all agreed that it was best that she stay at the shop until it was no longer safe. Other than her occasional visits, they didn’t see anyone else. After Merula’s confession about accepting Jacob’s proposal, she had made herself scarce and though Clara knew she had an important mission to complete, she couldn’t help but notice even in her brief moments back home, Merula had been avoiding her. Being a private person in her own right, Clara knew better to encroach on her space, but she did worry about her friend and hoped that one day she would talk to her about it.   
  
She thought back to their time in Egypt; he was never really subtle about it, even though he thought he was. She knew that Jacob loved Merula, probably before either of them even knew it. But she could never really gauge Merula’s affections for him. She obviously cared about him and always respected his passion, his impulsivity, and his total lack of fear; but did she love him? Clara could never tell. She felt guilty all over again, leaving the way she did. But the grief was too overwhelming to even consider coming home. Still, she hadn’t found true peace with it. She still didn’t know why Jacob was gone and she still hadn’t stepped foot in her childhood home since before the incident. She had been avoiding them as well.   
  
That morning, Clara made herself a coffee and took a seat at the kitchen table. She pulled the picture out once again, rubbed the worn edges, and asked Jacob the only question she really wanted to know:   
  
“Will they forgive me?” she asked out loud.   
  
“Who are you talking to?” came a voice from the edge of her periphery, causing Clara to upend her mug, sending hot coffee all over the table.   
  
“Merlin’s beard, I didn’t even hear you,” Clara said, as Ben waved his wand to clean up the mess. “How did you sneak in so quietly?”   
  
He shrugged and sat down across from her, “I guess when you work with dangerous beasts for so long, you learn how to tread quietly.” He pointed to the coffee pot, “May I?”   
  
“Of course,” she said, and then pushed her now empty mug over to him for a refill.   
  
“Does he ever answer?” Ben asked.   
  
“Only in my head,” Clara admitted, “although that might just mean I’ve finally lost all of my wits.”   
  
Ben took a deep swig of the coffee and then made a face, “Why do you insist on trying to make coffee? You’re rubbish at it.”   
  
“Oh, thanks for that,” she said with a laugh before taking a drink herself. “I just don’t feel right, asking a house-elf to make it when I’m perfectly capable of doing it.”   
  
He shook his head, “You know for a pure-blood, you’re way more of a muggle than even I am,” he said with a half-laugh. “They’ll be coming for you too.”   
  
“Don’t I know it,” she said with a sad smile.   
  
“So,” Ben said, “what’s the plan for today?”   
  
“I actually think I need to do something else,” Clara began, “I think I need to go home.”   
  
“Are you sure?” Ben said, “Don’t you think they’ll go there to find you?”   
  
“It’s possible,” she admitted, “but I need to see if they are okay, and maybe, I don’t know, warn them.”   
  
“Even after all that happened?” he asked.   
  
She gave him a long look and then finally said, “Yes. Even after everything… they’re still my parents.”   
  
He nodded. “Do you want me to go with you?”   
  
“No,” she said, “it’ll be dangerous to bring you out in the open.” She looked up and saw his frustrated face and in an attempt to get ahead of it added, “Besides, alone, I can go in disguise. It will be a lot easier, and safer for me, to slip on the grounds as a dog.”   
  
That seemed to appease Ben as he nodded in agreement. “You’ll be careful though, won’t you?”   
  
“Of course,” she said, “it’s just a trip home.” She got up and patted his arm. “I’m going to leave now, better to do it in the early morning. If I am staying, I will send a patronus with a message.”   
  
He nodded once more. “Be careful, please.”   
  
“I will.”   
  
\---  
  
 _September 1st, 1997_  
 _Kenmare, Ireland  
  
  
_ Clara apparated to the edge of the clearing near the horse barns on her family’s property. Everything looked the same, almost as if time had stood still all of these years. If only that were true, but everything had changed the moment Jacob went missing.  
  
She transformed quickly and started trotting through the grounds. She used to love doing this on horseback when she was younger, but now, her abilities permitted an even easier way to move through the grounds. She stayed near the edge of the clearing so as to not spook the horses and made her way up to the main house.   
  
It was a beautiful stone house that sat squarely on the hill overlooking Kenmare Bay. They used to take the townspeople on horseback tours and would host events in the grand ballroom, which was magically enhanced, though only a keen observer would have noticed the enchantments. She stopped halfway up the path and thought of all the great memories. It had been a wonderful place to be as a child, to play on the grounds with her brother, chasing away the birds and climbing trees in the forest.   
  
She continued her walk and made it to the doorway, transformed back into her human form, brushed herself off, and then knocked three times. There was a pop, and then a shuffle behind the door before it opened wide in front of her. She looked down and saw a familar face.   
  
“Miss Clara, Jones was not expecting to see you this day. Welcome home,” said Jones, the family’s house-elf.   
  
“Hello Jones,” she said, reaching her hand down to shake his hand. “I thought not to be here. Are my parents treating you fairly as we discussed?”   
  
“Always, Miss, I have never been mistreated,” he smiled.   
  
“Excellent,” she smiled back and walked through the front entrance into the modest foyer. They were an old magical family; hence the expanse of the grounds and the stone manor on the hill. The generational wealth, like most old families, also came as a result of traditional ideals. However, her parents had for years used that wealth to deepen connections with the muggle community, an act that had ultimately ostracized them from the larger family.   
  
When she was younger, her parents were her heroes; they taught her to always do what is right, rather than just what is easy. They paid their house-elves, gave them days off and vacations and she and Jacob were raised to treat everyone as equals. They did not succumb to the pure-blood mania that encircled Voldemort’s initial rise to power. They used to tell her stories about how the Death Eaters came for them and how they hid muggle-borns and others that opposed him in the cellar during the war. They were her pillars  
  
But when Jacob was kicked out of Hogwarts and subsequently went missing, it uncovered a darker side of her parents, especially her mother, and it was something she had never seen before. Their anger and grief was turned on her. They put all their energy into finding him; they made choices that Clara could not have fathomed before then. And every year that Clara came back home from Hogwarts with no answers as to his disappearance, their anger and disappointment grew deeper and deeper. When she finally freed him, almost killing herself in the process, they did not greet her with joy or even check to see that she was safe; no, they only said how disappointing it was that she couldn’t get him to come home when he continued his search for Rakepick.   
  
They were happy, for a moment, when Jacob returned, but the damage had been done. Coming home was no longer a safe haven for her, and no matter how much she loved them, it had become a painful reminder of everything she had lost.   
  
“Miss Clara, should I fix you some breakfast? Coffee?” Jones asked, walking with her into the foyer.   
  
“No that’s quite alright, Jones, but thank you,” she said, “I was just hoping to speak with my parents and then I’ll be off.”   
  
“Of course, Miss,” Jones replied, “Mr. O’Connor told Jones they both is at the barn this morning.”   
  
“Thank you,” she replied. “I believe I will wait in the library. Can you let them know I am here when they get back?”   
  
“Yes, Miss. Jones will do that.” Jones smiled and presumably went back to his post near the entrance.   
  
Clara walked down the hall, looking at the pictures on the wall. It was a comfort at least, to see that they hadn’t taken them down, or blasted her out of them. Rather than continue to the library, however, she decided to take a detour to her childhood bedroom. As she opened the door she saw that it was exactly as she had left it. Dust had accumulated on every surface, indicating that no one had set foot in there since she left. She walked over to the window and opened it to let the air in. She saw that Tilly’s perch was still in the same place and that all of her letters were still strewn across the desk. She rifled through them and found the letters she received from Skye during the summer of 1991. She piled all of the letters and packed them into her rucksack; if the Death Eaters did come, they would have all the clues they needed just from these letters to track down any of her friends.   
  
As she was packing, she didn’t hear the footsteps stop near the doorway.   
  
“What are you doing here?” came a voice she hadn’t heard in years.   
  
She turned sharply and saw her mother, standing cross-armed in the doorframe.   
  
“I came to see you, to check if you’re okay,” Clara replied, standing up tall.   
  
Her mother examined her, and then said sharply, “You haven’t cared for years about our well-being, why would you care now?”   
  
“That’s not fair,” Clara said defensively, “you and father are the ones that made it clear I wasn’t welcome here. Even after Jacob ca-“   
  
“Don’t speak his name,” her mother spat. “Don’t you dare come here after all this time and speak about your brother, your brother who died and you were no where near to protect him.”   
  
“Protect him?” Clara asked, astounded. “I tried for years to protect him, but he ran head long into danger every single time.”   
  
Her mother shook her head, “I don’t want to hear it. It’s bad enough you let him propose to that… that girl.”   
  
“That girl is one of the most loyal and courageous people I have ever met,” Clara said, defending Merula.   
  
“Her family is part of the problem that this world is facing,” her mother shot back.   
  
Clara laughed, “You know. I don’t know what I expected to happen when I came home, but I should have known. The irony of it all.”   
  
“What are you on about?” her mother asked through clenched teeth.   
  
“You taught me to not judge people based on their position or their family name, but rather by their actions. Since we saved Jacob from the bloody cursed vault he cherished so much, her actions have been nothing but honorable,” Clara yelled. “And I honestly don’t care what you or my father think about me, but I hope some day you will come to your senses.”   
  
Her mother let out a shrill laugh, “Our sense? You’re one to talk, you and your… choices.”   
  
“My choices…” she shook her head, “It’s not a choice, mother. It’s who I am.”   
  
“It’s unacceptable, not in this house,” her mother continued.   
  
“Well it’s a good thing this isn’t my home anymore then isn’t it?” Clara shot back.   
  
“You should leave, before your father sees you.”   
  
“Fine,” Clara said, brushing past her and walking down the stairs and back to the entrance.   
  
“Miss?” came Jones voice. “Are you leaving us so quickly?”   
  
Clara softened, “Yes, I am so sorry Jones. It was lovely to see you. I hope it’s not the last time.” She placed a soft hand on his shoulder, looking into his large, sad eyes.   
  
“I hopes that too, Miss,” he replied.   
  
She nodded and then left the house. She stormed down the path and headed back to the clearing where she would have a safe place to apparate from. As she was about to leave she heard her name come from the paddock.   
  
Her dad appeared near the fence. “Clara?” he asked again, softly.   
  
“Hi, Dad,” she said, just realizing that there were tears streaming down her cheeks.   
  
“Oh, my dear,” he came over to her and wrapped a tentative arm around her. “This is not how I hoped to find you.”   
  
She looked up, “What do you mean? Did you know I was here?”   
  
He nodded, “An owl came just before you did.” He pointed at the black-feathered owl sitting on the fence and handed her a letter. “Your mother?”   
  
“Was not happy to see me,” she admitted. “I’m guessing you aren’t either?”   
  
“I’m just surprised,” he said, “and wish it wasn’t like this.”   
  
“She still blames me, for well, everything.”   
  
“I know. No matter how much I try, she won’t listen.”  
  
Clara leaned into her father’s embrace, “I’m sorry I can’t be what you both want.”   
  
He sighed, “I don’t really care about that stuff.”   
  
She was shocked, “But the last time?”   
  
“The last time I was taken aback. I behaved terribly and you deserved better,” he admitted. “I was hoping to apologize to you in person but you never returned. And then when Jacob passed…”   
  
She nodded. “It’s best that I stay away, especially now. The closer I am to you two, the more danger you are in.”   
  
He gave her a look, “What have you done this time?”   
  
“Nothing, but it’s happening again,” she said.   
  
He sighed, “I know.” He patted her arm. “I hope that one day…”   
  
“I know, Dad.”   
  
“Goodbye, Clara.”   
  
“Goodbye.”   
  
She watched him walk back towards the house and then unfurled the letter.   
  
_  
Clara,  
  
There was something weird in the Prophet and I wanted to talk to you about it. Can you come see me, tonight?  
  
Skye  
  
  
_Clara’s heart leapt out of her chest. She grabbed a bottle of ink and a spare quill from her bag and scribbled a response on a spare piece of parchment. She rolled it up and coaxed the owl over so that she could tie the letter to its leg.   
  
She watched the owl fly off and then spun on her heel, leaving her family home behind.   
  
\---  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After some research I learned that in the game Jacob and his sibling were raised near muggles but with no real association and honestly that was bland so I switched it up. 
> 
> Also how old was Jacob? Does anyone know? Being stuck in a painting might distort the aging process I'm sure haha. 
> 
> This is fun, let's keep it rolling.


	20. You Know Why

CHAPTER 20: You Know Why  
  
 _September 1st, 1997  
Holyhead, Wales  
_  
  
Clara stood at the bottom of Skye’s stairs for about five minutes, taking one step up and then retreating each time. This happened repeatedly until she finally climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. There was a hoot from inside the apartment and then, much to her dismay, she heard not one but two voices. She panicked; clearly Skye wasn’t alone in the apartment. She wanted to run but her feet were glued to the steps, preventing her from fleeing the scene.   
  
The door slowly opened and Skye appeared through the crack.   
  
“Hi,” she said, “Umm, come in.”   
  
Clara looked at her apprehensively. “Are you sure?” she asked.   
  
Skye glanced over her shoulder and Clara saw Amanda sitting at the table.   
  
“Of course, come in,” she said again.   
  
Clara stepped tentatively into the flat. “Hi, Amanda,” Clara said, trying to talk above the sound of her pounding heart, which was beating dangerously fast. “I’m sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting.”   
  
“No, that’s quite alright Clara,” Amanda asked. “What brings you to town?”   
  
Clara glanced at Skye who was avoiding eye contact. Trying to move past the awkwardness of the situation, Clara responded, “Oh, well, Skye asked me to come over to discuss something in the paper.”   
  
“Sounds fascinating,” Amanda said, coolly, her eyebrow cocked up as she looked her over.   
  
“I’m sorry, I feel like I’m overstepping here,” Clara interjected, “I should go.”   
  
“No, that’s okay, Clara,” Skye said, “Amanda and I are done talking for the night.”   
  
Amanda scoffed, “Alright then.” She got up and shot another look Clara’s way before heading to the door. “Nice to see you Clara,” she said, and closed the door behind her.   
  
Clara looked over at Skye, who was still avoiding eye contact with her. “Should I not have come?”   
  
Skye didn’t answer. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured some firewhiskey into the glass.   
  
“Skye, isn’t that your glass?” Clara pointed at a glass that was half full.   
  
“This one’s for you,” Skye answered, placing the glass in front of her.   
  
“Oh, in that case, thank you.”   
  
Skye sipped her own drink. They sat in silence for a moment, and then Skye finally said, “I’m so sorry that just happened.”   
  
“It’s okay, I didn’t mean to interrupt something between you and your girlfriend, I could have come at another time,” Clara said, trying to keep the jealousy at bay.   
  
“No, I wanted you to come remember, I just didn’t realize you had replied until you were already at the door,” Skye admitted. “Besides,” she shrugged, “she’s not my girlfriend anymore.”   
  
“Oh,” Clara said, her heart betraying her brain once more, “I am so sorry to hear that.”   
  
Skye shook her head, “It’s fine.”   
  
Clara didn't want to press so she changed the subject. "You're owl, is she new?"   
  
"Oh, yes," Skye said, tuning back into the conversation, "I named her Agnes, because of her black feathers, after Black Agnes -"   
  
"Agnes Randolph, the Countess of Dunbar," Clara said.   
  
"Actually yes," Skye said, surprised, a small smile creeping onto her face. "You do know your muggle history. And Scottish history at that."   
  
"As a child I read a lot of muggle history books, my father stocked the library with them." Clara answered with a shrug.   
  
Skye chuckled softly and then walked to the living room and picked up the paper from her coffee table. “Look at this,” she said, dropping the paper down in front of Clara. “Suspicious, no?”   
  
Clara read it. “Not really suspicious if you think about it.”   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“It’s pretty clear. Snape murdered Dumbledore that night on the Astronomy tower. He also attacked George Weasley a few nights before the wedding.”   
  
“Oh right,” Skye said, “his ear.”  
  
“Yes. I don’t know all the details but I believe that the Weasley’s were part of a team escorting Harry that night. You-Know-Who and his followers ambushed them and killed Alastor Moody in the process.”   
  
“Mad-Eye Moody, the auror?” Skye asked.   
  
“The exact same.”   
  
“So, Snape is working for You-Know-Who then?”   
  
“Yes. That much is clear. He put Snape in place to maintain whatever he’s trying to do at the school,” Clara answered, “and then the Carrows…”   
  
“Do you know them?” Skye questioned her.   
  
“I’ve come across the brother. He’s a nasty piece of work. Thicker than a troll but even more violent,” Clara admitted. “I’m sure his sister is more or less the same.”   
  
"When did you come across him?" Skye asked.   
  
"In Norway, actually," she replied.   
  
"Odd that you would have seen him there, no?" Skye pressed.   
  
"Yes, or, well, maybe it's not that odd when I think about it," she said. _Maybe it makes perfect sense,_ she added to herself.   
  
Skye examined her for a moment and then took another sip of her drink, “Those poor students,” she commented. “Hogwarts isn’t safe anymore, is it?”   
  
Clara looked over at her and saw the sadness that had taken over her face, “No, I don’t think it is,” she agreed, “but then again, I don’t think anywhere is truly safe.”   
  
Skye drained her drink and Clara noticed that her hands were shaking. She grabbed the bottle and went to pour another one before Clara grabbed her wrist and stopped her.   
  
“What’s wrong?” she asked her.   
  
“Nothing,” Skye said, pulling away from her.   
  
“I can still tell when you are lying, you know,” Clara said bluntly.   
  
Skye gave her defiant look, but then her shoulders dropped. “Fine,” she admitted, “I’m scared.”   
  
“It’s okay to be scared,” Clara said softly.   
  
“You’re not scared though, you’re never scared,” Skye exclaimed and started pacing back and forth. “You go head long into adversity every time without thinking twice and always try to do the right thing, no matter how hard it is. I just don’t know how to do that.”  
  
Clara sighed, “Do you want me to let you in on a secret?”   
  
Skye stopped pacing. “What would that be?”   
  
“I’m always scared,” Clara admitted.   
  
Skye laughed, “Sure, like I would believe that.”   
  
“It’s true,” Clara continued, “I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t scared. Scared that I was making the wrong decision, scared that I would put people in danger, and now… well I’m scared that I’m not going to be able to do what Dumbledore asked me to do.”   
  
Skye gave her a long look as if she didn’t really believe her still. Clara started to feel embarrassed about her moment of vulnerability so she took a drink.   
  
Finally, after a few more seconds of silence, Skye asked, “So how do you do it then?”   
  
Clara choked on her drink, “Do what exactly?”   
  
“Keep making these hard decisions, despite the fear,” she continued.   
  
Clara paused for a moment, “To be perfectly honest, I think the only time you can make hard decisions is when you are a little scared,” she began, “but when I’m in those situations, I don’t fixate on everything I could lose, I fixate on everything I have, and I do everything I can to make sure I protect that.”   
  
“And what exactly is ‘that’?” Skye pressed.   
  
“My values, for one, but truthfully, the people I have in my life and the people that need me.”   
  
“You go through the world thinking everyone needs you,” Skye said rather sharply.   
  
Clara was taken aback, “I suppose I do sometimes.”   
  
“That’s why he picked you, isn’t it?” Skye continued, “he knew you’d never stop trying to help them until it was over.”   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“I know what Dumbledore asked you to do,” Skye said, “Chiara told me everything.”   
  
_Shit,_ she thought. _She wasn’t supposed to know that.  
  
_ “So she told you… about her?”   
  
“She did. And she told me you knew the whole time.”   
  
“You can’t be upset with me about that, and you cannot tell a single soul about that,” Clara said firmly. “That information in the wrong hands could be life or death for her.”   
  
“I know, I know.” Skye said, throwing her hands up in the air. “It’s just every time I start to think about, well, stuff, I just learn another secret and I realize I just don’t know you all over again.”   
  
Clara sat there silently for a moment, ruminating over her last statement. Finally she asked, “Why did you ask me to come tonight?”  
  
This time Skye looked surprised. “I, well, I wanted to talk about the Prophet article.”   
  
“And so we have,” Clara continued, “but is there something you wanted to say to me?”   
  
Skye gave her another hostile glance, “I’m not sure what you’re insinuating.”   
  
Clara sighed, “Okay, I am sorry I asked.” She finished her drink and then got up from her chair.   
  
“Wait, where are you going?” Skye asked in a confused tone.   
  
“We discussed the article and now you’re upset about something you won’t tell me about, so I think it’s time for me to go,” she said calmly. “Thank you for the drink.” She walked towards the door.   
  
“Amanda took the letter,” Skye said suddenly.   
  
Clara whipped around, “What?” she asked.   
  
“The letter, about Jacob. She took it and that’s why I never received it,” Skye said, her eyes downcast once more.   
  
“Why would she do that?” Clara asked, her eyes welling up.   
  
Skye looked up at her, “Jealousy, apparently.”  
  
Clara nodded, “Well, at least now I know.”   
  
“That’s why we broke up,” Skye continued.   
  
“I didn’t ask,” Clara said bluntly. She quickly realized the rudeness of her tone so she added, “I just mean, I didn’t ask because it wasn’t my business.”   
  
“I know, but I wanted you to know. I’m so sorry that it happened,” Skye said sadly.   
  
“It’s okay, it’s in the past,” Clara said, pulling on her travelling cloak. “We don’t need to dig it up again.”   
  
Skye nodded. Clara turned to leave once more but then Skye grabbed her wrist. “Please don’t stop me,” she said.   
  
Clara turned around, “What?” she asked, her heart pounding so hard she could barely hear herself speak. She was so close to her; she was scared that she could hear the rapid beats echoing through her chest.   
  
“When the time comes, don’t stop me from fighting,” Skye said calmly. “I’ve sat on the sideline long enough, letting others fight to keep me safe. Don’t stop me this time.”   
  
Clara wasn’t sure where this was coming from but she saw the look in Skye’s eye; it was the same look she had during quidditch matches, the same look she had when she kissed her the last time on the beach. “Skye, I,” Clara started before Skye cut her off.   
  
“Please. Don’t protect me,” she said.  
  
“You know I can’t do that,” Clara continued.   
  
“Why?” Skye asked.   
  
“You know why,” Clara said simply. She saw the look of comprehension take over Skye’s eyes. She pulled back for a moment and Clara took that opportunity to turn back to the door.   
  
“Clara, I –“ she began, but this time Clara cut her off.   
  
“I should go,” Clara said, opening the door. “Please, don’t do anything stupid. And if you write, make sure you switch up the owls. Don't use Agnes twice in a row.” And then she left, without looking back.   
  
She got to the bottom of the stairs, took a deep breath and then turned on her heel, making sure to take her pounding heart with her.   
  
\---  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so part of me wanted to keep Amanda there to make it hella awkward and dramatic because let's be honest, a love triangle between women is that in a nutshell. But it would have been way out of character for either of them to talk in front of someone else, so alas, I didn't give in to my whims. 
> 
> I did want to note that the difference in Amanda's demeanor from chapter to chapter is more related to whose perspective it is rather than the situation that's unfolding, if that helps with the continuity. 
> 
> Anyway, this might be a chapter I look back on and say "fuck, I really did that wrong" but hey, I already feel that way about most of the chapters. 
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to check in! 600+ hits and I swear only 100 of them are me obsessively refreshing. More plot moving chapters coming soon :)


	21. The Attack, Part 1

CHAPTER 21: The Attack, Part 1   
  
  
_September 17th, 1997_ _  
_ _Snyde Manor_ _  
  
_ _  
_ In the early hours of the morning, Clara and Ben were sitting in the drawing room, discussing the next steps in their plan.   
  
“So what did Remus say when you last spoke?” Ben asked.   
  
“He told me he contacted two blokes that were running from the Death Eaters. They’re at Ted and Andromeda’s currently, but they can’t stay. I can’t imagine what last night would have been like, I just hope that Penny got them enough Wolfsbane,” Clara said. “I think we’ll need to take them in soon.”   
  
“She’s not happy about this, you know,” Ben said, putting his book down on the table.   
  
“Who? Penny?” Clara asked, continuing to examine her research.   
  
“Yes,” Ben said, “she doesn’t trust them. Because well, you know.”   
  
“Because of Scarlett, yes, I know,” she said, "but this is different. We're trying to protect good people who didn't choose to become werewolves."   
  
“She has trouble separating the person from the condition,” Ben continued, “I just worry about asking her to keep supplying Wolfsbane when she’s clearly struggling with it.”   
  
Clara sighed, “We all have to make sacrifices, Ben.”   
  
“But Dumbledore didn’t ask her to do this, he asked you,” Ben said sternly.   
  
“He asked me to trust in my friends,” Clara said in response.   
  
“But not take advantage of them.”   
  
Clara looked up from her notes and stared at her friend,“Is there something you would like to say to me right now?”   
  
“I just mean… that she didn’t sign up for this,” Ben answered cautiously.   
  
“Ben, I can’t brew Wolfsbane, how else can I keep them safe and away from You-Know-Who if they are still a danger to each other while they’re here, or a danger to us."   
  
“I’m just saying, that it’s not really her problem,” Ben reiterated.   
  
“I didn’t think I was asking too much, considering the two of you wanted to help,” Clara shot back. “I told you I didn’t want to put targets on your back, but you two insisted.”   
  
“I’m just saying, it might be too much for Penny,” Ben said.   
  
Clara had a feeling that Ben's comments had more to do with his own situation than Penny's. She took a breath and said,“If Penny had a problem, she would tell me, that’s never been an issue in the past,” Clara said. “So why are you trying to fight her battles for her?”   
_  
_ Just as he was about to respond, they heard a noise coming from the door. Clara walked out into the hall, gripping her wand tightly.   
  
“Who’s there?” she called.   
  
There was no answer, but she heard someone was fumbling at the lock on the other side; her heart was pounding as she raised her wand in preparation. Finally, the door opened and Merula stumbled in.   
  
“Merula, what on earth,” she said, dropping her wand and catching her before she hit the floor. She laid her down gently on the ground and saw a small stream of blood coming from a gash on the back of her head. Her eyes rolled back in her eye sockets before she finally lost consciousness. “BEN!” she called out, “BEN, HELP ME!”   
  
She heard his chair scrape and then his footsteps thundered down the hallway.   
  
“Clara, what happened?” Ben asked as he bent down to the floor. He took a look at Merula and his face went white. “Clara, is she...?”   
  
“Dead?” Clara remarked, checking her pulse which was very faint but still detectable. “No, she’s just unconscious. I don’t even understand how she made it through the door.”   
  
She grabbed her wand and muttered a quick healing spell to fix the cut on her head. When it didn’t work, she looked over at Ben, “Why won’t it work?”   
  
“Could it be an injury from a spell?” Ben answered. He pulled out his wand and murmured, “ _Reparifors._ ”   
  
Clara checked it; the cut had closed up.. She quickly vanished the blood. “Nice thinking.”   
  
He nodded. “Should we wake her up?”   
  
Clara checked her pulse again which was gaining strength. “I don’t think so,” she said and then grabbed her wand. “Can you open the doorways to her bedroom? I think if we both levitate her at the same time, we can keep her steady.”   
  
After clearing the path, they waved their wands and managed to get her up in the air. They walked her slowly to the bed and lowered her slowly. “Watch her head,” Clara said, pointing at the bedpost.   
  
Ben maneuvered her slowly until they were able to gently place her on the bed. Clara sat down beside her and checked her pulse again. “It’s weak,” she said and then looked over at Ben, “I need to go get Chiara. She’s the only person that will know what to do.”   
  
“Can you get her here fast?” he asked.   
  
“I don’t know, but I need to try,” Clara said. “Can you get Penny here?”   
  
“Clara, are you sure?” Ben said.   
  
“Ben,” Clara sighed, “can you just get her? You and I are helpless here.”   
  
“Fine, I’ll go get her.”   
  
Clara nodded. “Be back soon.”   
  
\---   
  
Clara appeared directly behind Chiara’s apartment, in the alley beside the rubbish bins. As soon as she landed, she heard the distinct sound of an intruder alarm. She waved her wand quickly and then transformed. She rooted around in the bins to make it seem like she was just a stray that set it off accidentally.   
  
“Who the bloody hell is out there?” came a gruff voice. An elderly man poked his head out of his window and saw the mess in the alley. “You filthy dog, get out of here!”   
  
She barked in response and then trotted to Chiara’s back door. She waited until the coast was clear and then transformed. She knocked softly at the door, waited a moment, and then waved her wand to unlock the door. Immediately she saw a trail of blood; she followed it with her eyes until her gaze landed on   
  
“Chi!” she yelled and sprinted over to her.   
  
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she whispered, “just a rough night.” Chiara tried to get up but Clara sat her back down. “You should see the other guy,” she laughed, causing her to wince. “Wait, Clara,” she said.   
  
“Yes?” Clara asked, cleaning off the gash on her arm.   
  
“You actually should see the other guy, because it was Merula,” Chiara said.   
  
“Wait, what?” Clara asked, looking up at her.   
  
“Merula was there last night, with a group of snatchers,” she continued. “The snatchers attacked me. I think she tried to stop them but I couldn't tell what was going on. There was another wizard with me, another werewolf,” she whispered, "I'm not sure what happened to him."   
  
“This makes so much more sense,” Clara said. “Merula is in a bad way.”   
  
Chiara looked up, terrified, “Did I hurt her?”   
  
“I don’t think so, her injuries seem like they were spell-induced,” Clara continued. “I don’t know all the details because she was unconscious when I left.”   
  
“What? Why did you come find me when she needs your help?” Chiara exclaimed.   
  
“Because you’re the only one I know that can actually help her right now,” Clara admitted. She gave Chiara another look over. “These injuries seem minor, are you sure you’re okay?” Clara asked.   
  
“Yes I am fine. But when I was treating myself I went through so many supplies, I’m going to need more,” Chiara said.   
  
“Chi, I think it’s time you came back with me, and not just to treat Merula. I think it’s time, ” Clara said bluntly. “I honestly don’t think you’re safe here, especially since they know a werewolf is in the area now.”   
  
“I think you’re right, but I still need the supplies,” Chaira said. “Can you get them for me?”   
  
“I can’t be seen in the clinic, it’s too dangerous,” Clara said. Then she realized, “But I think I know who could do it. Will you be okay?”   
  
“Yes,” Chiara said, catching on quickly. “If she’s not home, check the harbour. She’s probably on a run.”   
  
“Got it,” she said and slipped out the door. She didn’t look up this time, but if she had, she would have seen the brown eagle sitting on the power line, watching her every move.   
  
\--- 


	22. The Attack, Part 2

CHAPTER 22: The Attack, Part 2   
  
  
_ September 17th, 1997 _ _  
_ _ Holyhead, Wales  _   
  
  
“Did you hear the rumour?” Rath asked. She and Skye had gone for a short jog that morning, ending at their usual spot near the harbour front.    
  
“Which one?” Skye replied absentmindedly as she stretched her hamstring on the bench.    
  
“The one about the Ministry,” Rath said. “Apparently Potter and his friends broke in and attacked Dolores Umbridge last week.”    
  
Skye looked up at her in confusion. “Wait, say that again?” she prompted her.    
  
Rath replied, “You remember Umbridge, right? Short, toad-like woman, wears a lot of pink.”    
  
“Oh, the one that worked for Fudge? That we met at the summer exhibition in Dorset a few years back?” Skye asked.    
  
“Yes, that’s the one,” Rath continued. “We met her before she was hired at Hogwarts.”    
  
“Right, right.” Skye said, shaking her leg out. “So, what happened to her?”    
  
“Well,” Rath said, taking a seat on the bench, “According to some of the team, she’s been working in the Muggle-Born Registration office, you know, taking wands from and imprisoning muggle-born witches and wizards.”    
  
“Wow, she sounds lovely,” Skye said, rolling her eyes.    
  
“Exactly,” Rath continued. “So they’re saying that Potter and his friends broke in, disguised as Ministry employees, freed a bunch of muggle borns and attacked her in the courtroom.”    
  
“Woah,” Skye said, impressed. “That’s phenomenal. But wait, why would they break in? Isn’t the whole ministry supposed to be looking for him?”    
  
“That’s the craziest part, it doesn’t seem like anyone knows why,” Rath said, an amused look on her face.    
  
“How do you know all of this?” Skye asked.    
  
“One of the girls on the development team her mother works in the Improper Use office and she worked with the employee that was impersonated. Apparently Umbridge came into the office the other day, screaming about some jewelry that was missing.”    
  
“Jewelry? Really?” Skye laughed. “What some women waste their energy on,” she finished with a shrug.    
  
Rath laughed but then asked seriously, “Do you really think they could have had something to do with Dumbledore’s death?”    
  
“No, not at all. Snape murdered him,” Skye said simply, taking a seat beside her. “They’re just trying to shift the focus from the fact that You-Know-Who is running the ministry and Hogwarts as well.”    
  
Rath looked over at her in surprise, “You think so?”    
  
“I do,” she answered, “Clara filled me in on some stuff the other night.”    
  
“Oh did she now?” Rath teased.    
  
“Yes, she did,” Skye answered.    
  
“What other stuff did she fill you in on?” Rath said, nudging her.    
  
Skye rolled her eyes, “Well that’s inappropriate and in any case, nothing happened.”    
  
“Were you expecting something to happen?” Rath asked.    
  
“What?” Skye exclaimed, “No. I just meant that we just talked about Snape and some other stuff. That’s it.”    
  
“Does she know you and Amanda broke up?” Rath questioned her.    
  
“Yes, she does,” Skye answered, “I told her about how Amanda took the letter.”    
  
“How did she react?” Rath asked, concerned.    
  
Skye thought about it for a moment. “She looked… sad, to be honest,” Skye said. “I think she still doesn’t know how he died.”   
  
“I bet that’s driving her crazy,” Rath said.    
  
Skye nodded and added, “She had just gotten him back, really. And then he was taken from her again.”    
  
“Did you ever meet him?” Rath asked.    
  
“Yes, at a quidditch match. It was the first scouting trip Gwenog sent me on,” Skye admitted.    
  
“What was he like?” Rath pressed, “We always wondered, given the rumours.”    
  
Skye thought back to the day she met Jacob. The similarities between them were obvious, but there was a darkness to him, something she had only seen from Clara recently. “He was intense. Funny, for sure, and a lot like Clara. But there was an energy that I couldn’t pin down, almost like it was difficult for him to not be doing something.”    
  
Rath didn’t respond for a moment, for which Skye was thankful. The discussion was bringing out a lot of emotions that she did not want to investigate.    
  
Finally, Rath piped up and asked, “So, are you going to see her again?”    
  
“I actually don’t know,” Skye admitted, “She left so suddenly and I haven’t heard from her. She told me that if I write I need to switch up my owls.”    
  
“So she’s in hiding?” Rath asked.    
  
“Yes,” Skye confirmed. She got up again and then looked at Rath, “Do you remember what you said, earlier in the summer?”   
  
“I can barely remember yesterday,” Rath laughed.   
  
“That’s concerning,” Skye said but continued, “You said that at school, all this stuff was happening around us while we just played quidditch. You know the cursed vaults and all that.”   
  
“Oh, right,” Rath said, remembering the conversation, “and you said, luckily O’Connor was there to save the day.”    
  
Skye nodded in agreement, “Exactly,” she said, “she’s going to get herself killed or injured trying to do it again.”    
  
“What do you mean?” Rath asked, concerned. “This is a whole lot bigger than all of that. Does she think she can stop You-Know-Who on her own?”    
  
“No, it’s not that,” Skye said, “but Dumbledore gave her a mission and she and her friends are back to doing what they do.”    
  
“Wow, that’s heavy,” Rath admitted, “and she’s not one to say no to Dumbledore, dead or alive.”    
  
“Exactly,” Skye agreed. “I get it though. I wouldn’t want to sit around and watch it happen if I knew I could help.”    
  
Rath gave her another look, “Are you thinking about getting yourself killed?”    
  
“No, I would prefer to live, but I’m tired of being a spectator, and letting others sacrifice for me,” Skye said with a shrug.    
  
Rath nodded slowly, “I do know what you mean. We’re playing games while everyone else prepares for war.”    
  
“I told Clara not to stop me, when the time comes. I told her I was going to fight,” Skye said seriously, sitting back down.    
  
“I bet she took that well,” Rath said with a small laugh.    
  
Skye snorted, “As if. She told me she couldn’t and that I knew why she couldn't,” Skye said. “Isn’t that kind of odd?”    
  
“Umm, not really,” Rath said. Skye looked over at her, confused. Rath laughed, “You know why she won’t let you, right?”    
  
“No, well, I don’t know, I don’t want to assume,” Skye confessed.    
  
“Well it’s not assuming when it’s a fact, she obviously still loves you,” Rath said matter-of-factually, “and you telling her that you are planning on risking your life is not going to make her tasks easier.”    
  
“That’s what Chi said too,” Skye said, remembering her conversation with Chiara weeks ago.    
  
“The bigger question is whether or not you feel the same way,” Rath said, nudging her shoulder.    
  
“I don’t know what I feel,” Skye said honestly. “She’s just so… dark, now. And not in a scary, Dark Arts way, but just, more closed off. She’s hurting and I want to help her, but it’s hard. She makes it so damn difficult.”    
  
Rath just looked at her and smiled.    
  
Skye looked back, “What?” she asked.    
  
“I think you know how you feel. You never stopped feeling it,” Rath told her.    
  
Skye didn’t answer, instead she let her gaze drift over to the harbour. She watched the dock workers stack crates on the boat decks. There was a mother walking by with a small child whose attention was now fixated on a brown, shaggy dog that was sitting near the lamp post. She chuckled, watching the dog sit perfectly still while the toddler rubbed his hands all over its face. The mother finally pulled her child away and tried to shoo the dog away, but it remained stiff, still staring back at her.    
  
_ Wait,  _ she thought,  _ dogs don’t sit that still.  _   
  
“What are you looking at?” Rath asked, cutting through the silence.    
  
“That dog,” she said pointing at it; the dog cocked its head to the side. “Is it odd that it has barely moved the entire time?”    
  
Rath gave it a closer look, “It almost seems like it’s standing guard or something.    
  
“Oh bloody hell,” Skye said, annoyed, “come with me.” She got up and started walking towards the dog.    
  
“What?” Rath said, trying to keep up with Skye’s brisk pace, “Wait, where are you going?”    
  
Skye bee-lined for the dog and when she got to it, the dog started wagging its tail in excitement.    
  
“Why are you here?” she asked the dog, ignoring Rath’s confused expression.    
  
The dog barked and then nudged her hand. “No,” Skye said, trying not to lose her composure, “I’m not petting you.” The dog instead went over to Rath and nudged her knee with its head. “Don’t pet her,” Skye said, “She’s trying to make me forgive her for trying to make sure I don’t do anything stupid, isn’t that right?” she asked the dog.    
  
It barked in response and wagged its tail some more.    
  
“Parkin, what the hell is going on?” Rath said, sneaking a quick scratch on the dog’s ears. Skye shrugged. The dog barked in appreciation and then started to walk back up the path towards town. It looked back and barked again, urging them to follow. They looked at each other and then followed her.    
  
They were walking behind the dog until they arrived at Chiara’s apartment. The dog pointed its nose at the door. They shared another glance and then Skye walked tentatively to the door. She knocked once and the door opened. “Chi,” she said softly, sending a glance back to Rath. She discreetly pulled out her wand, urging Rath to do the same. The dog was now at her side as the trio walked into the apartment.    
  
“Bloody hell,” Rath said, taking one look at Chiara who was on the ground, covered in cuts and bruises.    
  
“Erika? Skye?” she whispered, “how did you get here?”    
  
Skye pointed at the dog, which had transformed back into Clara.    
  
“Holy shit,” Rath said, looking at her, “O’Connor?” she exclaimed.    
  
“I’m sorry about that,” Clara said, “I couldn’t risk showing my face. But I need your help.”    
  
Skye was annoyed, “Why didn’t you come faster? Look at the state of her.”    
  
“I just got here myself, and besides she’s fine,” Clara said, “this is just a side effect sometimes.”    
  
“What?” Skye said, and then after a moment, she realized, “Oh, it’s the 17th.”    
  
“Exactly,” confirmed Clara. “I need your help with something else, though. We ran through a lot of her supplies just now and we need more, are you two able to get some of these,” she handed them a list, “from the clinic. And then I’m going to need one of you to help me apparate her to safety.”    
  
“To safety?” Skye said.    
  
“She can’t stay here, it’s too dangerous.”    
  
“Okay, wait,” Rath interjected, “I need to know at least some of what’s going on. First of all, you’re an animagus?” she asked Clara.    
  
“Yes," Clara answered.   
  
“Okay, and Chiara is…?”    
  
“A werewolf,” Chiara whispered from the floor, her head rolling to the side. Clara immediately got on her knees to stabilize her.    
  
Rath was stunned. “Okay, and Skye, you knew?”    
  
“About the animagus bit? Yes, since school. But about Chiara? I just found out a few weeks ago.” Skye answered.    
  
“Okay, just give me a moment here,” Rath said, sitting herself down in the chair. “This is a lot.”    
  
“And I understand that, Erika, but we are on a clock here,” Clara said, rather bluntly.    
  
Skye glared at her for a moment, but then turned back to her friend. “Okay, Rath, you and I need to go get the ingredients right now, Clara can’t be seen out in the open.” She went over and pulled her up. “We’ll be back in ten minutes,” she said to Clara who was tending to Chiara’s wounds again.    
  
“Thank you,” Clara said, making direct eye contact with her, “and it’s really important that you don’t tell anyone why.”    
  
“What should I say?”    
  
“Tell them Chiara is sick and that she asked you to come get supplies for her,” Clara said. “Her signature is on the bottom.”    
  
“She prepared for this already,” Skye realized, looking at Clara.    
  
Clara nodded back. “Be quick, please,” she pleaded, gently placing her hand on Skye's arm, causing her to shiver involuntarily.    
  
Skye regained her composure quickly; she nodded and then ushered Rath out. She grabbed her arm tightly and they disapparated, landing behind the clinic.    
  
She took out the list and knocked on the door to the clinic. Naturally, the first person to come to the door was about the last person she wanted to see right now.    
  
“Skye? Erika? Training isn’t til this evening, is everything okay?” Amanda asked, trying to, in Skye's opinion, feign optimism.    
  
“Yes, umm, we were just at Chi’s because she’s not feeling well,” Skye lied, “she asked us to pick up some supplies for her, she may not be in for a few days.” She handed Amanda the list.    
  
Amanda took it and quickly read it. “Did she say how she was feeling?”    
  
“No,” Skye said, “and you know I’m rubbish at this stuff so I didn’t press.”    
  
“Hmm,” Amanda said, giving her an odd look. “Okay, I can get some of these, but I’m waiting on a shipment from London for the other stuff. You might be better off grabbing it yourself.”    
  
“No problem, I’ll let her know,” Skye said.    
  
“Should I come check in on her?” Amanda asked, filling up a bottle with sprigs of aconite.    
  
“No,” Rath said suddenly and both Skye and Amanda looked at her. “I just mean, she’s pretty sick, she only let us in because Skye insisted,” she finished.   
  
Skye gave her a look, urging her to relax. “Honestly, I think she just needs to rest.”    
  
"These ingredients look like she's making some Wideye potion, and yet you say she needs to rest?" Amanda asked, placing snake fangs in a small bag.  
  
"I, well, like I said," Skye continued, "I'm rubbish with potions.  
  
Amanda gave her another glance, but then nodded and then pushed the supplies over to her. “Here you go. Tell her to send me a note if she needs anything else.”    
  
“Will do, and thank you,” she added.   
  
Skye ushered Erika out of the clinic. “I should have gone alone, she definitely suspects something.”    
  
“This is a lot,” Rath said aloud, “how are you so calm right now?”    
  
“I’m not. I’m fucking terrified,” Skye said, “but they need our help so we just need to get it done.” She grabbed Rath’s arm tightly and they apparated again, landing outside of Chiara’s door. Skye opened it and found Chiara sitting up with bags packed around her.    
  
“Where should I put these?” she asked.    
  
“In the brown bag,” Clara said pointing to a small rucksack on the table, as she tied up a second, larger bag.    
  
Rath grabbed the vials and started to pack them. “Clara, Skye can help you with that one,” Rath said, giving Skye a knowing glance.    
  
“Please,” Clara said. Skye could see her hands were shaking.    
  
“I think I can apparate on my own, Clara,” Chiara said, noticing Clara's hands as well. Chiara's voice was still weak, but markedly stronger than before.    
  
“I don’t think so, Chi,” Clara said, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She turned to Skye and Rath, “I’m going to need one of you to help.”    
  
“Skye can go, I’ll cover with Gwenog if you don't get back in time,” Rath said slowly, tying up the rucksack. Skye tried to protest but Rath gave her another look.    
  
“It shouldn’t take long,” Clara said, attempting to reassure her.    
  
“It’s settled then,” Rath said.    
  
“Okay, yes,” Skye said, “What do you need me to do?”    
  
“Grab the small bag, I’ll get this one,” Clara continued, picking up the larger bag. She waved her wand and Skye watched as the apartment tidied itself up and the blood vanished. “I need you to read this in your head, not out loud,” she said, passing her a note.    
  
“Okay…” Skye responded. She read the address on the note and then gave it back to Clara who burnt the note immediately.    
  
“This is all very intense and I hope that someday you will let me know what the hell just went on,” Rath said.    
  
Chiara scoffed, “Don’t hold your breath.”    
  
Clara barely noticed, she was too busy trying to get Chiara to her feet. Skye walked over and helped her. “Thanks,” she mumbled.   
  
Once they managed to get Chiara up and stabilized, Clara grabbed Skye’s hand, sending shock waves through her body. She jerked away, but Clara held on. “You don’t know where we are going, so I need to hold onto you. Make sure you hold onto Chiara tightly,” Clara said firmly, not breaking eye contact with her.    
  
Skye nodded in agreement; she didn’t dare look at Rath because she knew exactly what she was thinking.    
  
“Erika,” Clara said, “Skye can fill you in soon, please keep your head down and take care.”    
  
Skye sent a glance over to Rath and then tightened her grip on Chiara.    
  
“Ready?” Clara asked.    
  
“Ready.”   
  
\---   
  



	23. It's Not Practical

**CHAPTER 23: It’s Not Practical**   
  
  
_ September 17th, 1997 _ _   
_ _ Snyde Manor _   
  
  
“Everyone okay?” Clara asked, as the trio of witches landed on the back step of Snyde Manor.    
  
“I think you’d know if we were splinched,” Chiara said.    
  
Clara and Skye were still holding Chiara up when Clara noticed that she was still gripping onto Skye’s hand. “Oh,” she said, dropping it, “sorry about that.”    
  
Thankfully, Skye brushed past the moment and asked, “Where are we?”   
  
“I’ll tell you inside,” Clara said, opening the door. “Chiara, are you good to walk?”    
  
“Yes, I think so.” She released herself from their grip and steadied herself. “Yes, I’m good. Take me to Merula.”    
  
“What’s wrong with Merula?” asked Skye, looking genuinely concerned.    
  
“She was unconscious when I left,” Clara answered. “That’s why I was in Holyhead, I was trying to get Chiara to come help us.”    
  
Skye gave her another worried look and Clara ushered her inside, closing the door behind them. “This is Merula’s family home.”    
  
“You’ve been living with Merula?” Skye asked coolly.    
  
Clara caught Skye’s tone and immediately said, “Yes, Ben and I are living here right now. He had to go into hiding and I don’t have anywhere else to stay. Besides,” she paused, “there’s a safe space in the cellar for Chiara during full moons.”    
  
“Are you going to stay here?” Skye prompted Chiara.    
  
Chiara sighed, “Yes, I think that’s safest.”    
  
“I agree,” concluded Skye.    
  
They walked down the hall and made it to Merula’s room. Ben and Penny were sitting at her bedside. Chiara rushed in and started examining her, head to toe. She cast some spells that Clara didn’t know and checked her breathing. After a few moments Chiara concluded that she would be fine and the group sighed collectively. Penny got up and gave Clara a hug.    
  
“I’m so glad you got Chiara here. It was way out of my scope of practice,” Penny admitted. “Hi Skye,” she said, turning to her and giving her arm a squeeze, “Clara wrangled you into helping?”    
  
“It was the least I could do, truthfully,” Skye said, giving her a small grin.    
  
Just then, Merula started to stir. “O’Connor,” she whispered. Clara looked over at the bed, trying to make sure she had heard correctly. “O’Connor,” she said again, eliciting some confused looks from the group.    
  
Clara walked over and grabbed her hand. “Oh, it's you. Well at least I'm not dead, right?” she asked Clara, who burst out laughing.    
  
“Unfortunately, no, we’re stuck with you still,” she said, to which Merula laughed.    
  
Merula turned and her eyes fell on Chiara, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”  she asked.   
  
“Just a bit, but you look like you got it worse. How did you know it was me?” Chiara asked her.    
  
“Penny and Clara gave me a good description and based on the area, it was easy to put two and two together,” she said, trying to lift herself up.    
  
“Stay there, don’t try and move,” Clara said. She turned to the doorway and saw Skye slip out. Penny gave her a quick look and urged her to go after her. “Chiara, make sure she doesn’t move.” She got up and followed her out.    
  
“Hey, why are you slipping out?” Clara asked, catching up to her near the door.    
  
“I have to get back for practice,” she said bluntly.    
  
“Oh, right,” Clara said, taking a step back. “Are you sure that’s it?”    
  
Skye sighed, “You don’t need me here.”    
  
“That’s not true,” Clara responded defensively. “You were fantastic today.”    
  
Skye looked back at her, “You don’t need to patronize me.”    
  
Clara took a step closer to her. “I’m being serious. I was terrified today. Between Merula bleeding so much she passed out and the state I found Chiara in, I honestly would not have been able to handle it without you.”    
  
“So why don’t you want me to fight? If I am so capable, shouldn’t you want me to help?” Skye asked sternly.    
  
Clara stood there, unsure of how to answer.    
  
Skye laughed, “Honestly, it’s just like being back at school with you sometimes.” She turned to leave but Clara grabbed her arm. Skye turned back around, a blazing look in her eye.    
  
“You are more than capable of handling yourself,” Clara said.    
  
“Then what’s the problem,” Skye asked.    
  
“I’m not capable of dealing with it,” Clara said firmly.    
  
Skye didn’t answer. Clara still had a grip on her arm; she loosened it when she realized, but Skye caught her hand. Clara’s heart was threatening to jump out of her chest, but then she heard footsteps in the hall. Skye dropped her hand. “I have to go,” she said, and then opened the door and left, leaving Clara alone with her thoughts.    
  
“Clara?” came Penny’s voice, “Are you okay?”    
  
Clara turned back and said, “No.”    
  
\---   
  
_ September 24th, 1997 _ _   
_ _ Diagon Alley, London _   
  
  
A week went by and Merula’s condition had improved so significantly that she was ready to get back to her work outside of the manor. Chiara wasn’t convinced, but agreed that she could begin dueling practice with Clara as long as they had enough supplies and potions in the house to prevent any major injuries. So that was why Clara found herself in Diagon Alley, rummaging through potions in Penny’s personal store.   
  
“When are you going to move in with us?” Clara teased, examining the bottles in Penny’s cupboard.   
  
Penny shot her a look, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, for a few reasons.”    
  
“I know, I know. It’ll draw attention if you stop coming to work,” Clara said. “I just need some positivity in my life. Between Ben and Merula, it’s a pretty solemn environment right now.”    
  
“Merula’s trying to get back out there?” Penny asked, sitting down at the kitchen table.    
  
“Yes. She’s become absolutely enraging. Honestly, if Chiara wasn’t there she would have easily provoked me into fighting her already,” Clara laughed.    
  
“And what about Ben?” Penny asked.   
  
“Actually I wanted to talk to you about that,” Clara said, sitting down across from her. “He brought up that you may be having an issue with me asking you to brew Wolfsbane.”    
  
“Ah,” Penny said, “I should have known he would have taken that out of context. It’s not an issue, it was just a comment I made.”    
  
“Talk to me, Pen. I know this is a touchy subject,” Clara said, gently placing her hand on Penny’s forearm.   
  
“No, it’s not that. Honestly, I don’t have any issue brewing Wolfsbane, I’m just worried,” she admitted.    
  
“What’s worrying you?”    
  
“That maybe I’ll mess up a batch and it’ll put everyone in danger,” Penny said, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Or we’ll run out of ingredients, or we’ll -”    
  
“Penny,” Clara said, squeezing her arm, “everyone is just so thankful that you are willing to help. We all know the risk and we have contingencies, I promise.”    
  
“It still doesn’t change how stressed I am feeling,” Penny exclaimed.    
  
“I know,” Clara said, “what can I do to help you?”    
  
Penny sighed, “I don’t know, it just feels good to articulate it. Ben is fantastic, but he’s so angry right now. Everything I say to him he just escalates it so quickly.”    
  
“I know he’s frustrated about not being able to leave the house, but it’s becoming unbearable,” Clara commented.    
  
Penny looked up at her with a peculiar expression, “It may be something else, too.”    
  
“Okay…” Clara began, “what’s going on?”    
  
Penny took a deep breath, “You can’t let him know that I told you, but we kissed,”   
  
Clara didn’t know what to say, so she said the only thing she could think of, “Was it nice?”    
  
Penny giggled, “You're so immature sometimes. But no, well I mean it was nice, nothing wrong with it, but we were drinking and I didn’t mean anything by it.”    
  
Clara realized where she was going with it. “He thought it meant something more?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.    
  
“Exactly,” she said, “he told me he’s had feelings for me for a while and he was excited that I finally returned them and well, it was a really awful conversation.”    
  
“This makes a lot more sense,” Clara said, “he was so hesitant to get you to the house last week.”    
  
Penny nodded, “He was certainly not happy about it.    
  
Clara shook her head, and laughed, “I can’t imagine kissing Ben Copper.”    
  
“Well, you can’t imagine kissing anyone,” she teased, “except maybe… someone you’ve kissed before?”    
  
She rolled her eyes, “Don’t even start,” she said.    
  
“I saw that the other day,” Penny said.    
  
“I don’t know what that was, truthfully,” Clara told her. “Again, just when I think there’s something, poof, it’s gone again.”   
  
“Well maybe it’s because you run away each time you feel anything,” Penny said bluntly. “Oh my gosh, that was so rude. I am so sorry, Clara.”    
  
Clara laughed, “It’s accurate. But it’s also not practical to investigate it.”    
  
“What do you need to investigate? She’s single because of something involving you, you already basically told her you love her and she didn’t tell you to sod off; it’s clear that there’s something there,” Penny said.    
  
“It’s just not practical,” Clara reiterated.    
  
“Love isn’t practical,” Penny said, beaming.   
  
“So you do love Ben, then?” Clara teased.    
  
“Oh sod off,” Penny said with a smile.    
  
\---   
  
After Clara had collected a sufficient amount of potions and supplemental ingredients, she quietly snuck back down the apartment stairs leading to the back alley. She stood on the step outside of the back door of the apothecary and tightened her rucksack which was filled to the brim. Just as she was about to apparate, she heard a stern voice coming from the edge of the building.    
  
“Halt,” they said; Clara gripped her wand instinctively before slowly turning to face her potential captor. “Don’t move,” they said. Clara froze on the spot. She knew that voice, it was definitely a wizard that she knew.    
  
“Am I wanted for questioning? Or are you snatching me to take me to the Ministry to check my blood status?” she said, trying to turn her head slightly to get a glimpse of them.   
  
“Neither, both, I’m not sure what to do with you,” they said, “but I do have to ask, have you been trafficking any white quills lately?”    
  
_ White quills? _ She thought,  _ I chased down a white owl once at school. The white quill, who found it with me? _ _   
_ _   
_ “Talbott?” she exclaimed, turning around quickly and tossing up a shield charm. She barely got it up in time, his spell glanced off, an inch from her shoulder.   
  
“What are you doing here, Clara?” he asked seriously. “You are wanted by the Ministry. Based on your sudden decision to quit your job and then promptly disappear, they think you’re part of a coup.”    
  
“So you are here to throw me in Azkaban?” Clara asked. “I should blast you out of my way right now.”    
  
“You’re out of practice, O’Connor. You can’t beat me,” he said. “Besides, if you do, they’ll know you were here.”    
  
“Should I not be?” Clara asked.    
  
“No,” he said firmly. “You’re putting Penny in danger just by being here.”    
  
She looked at him and then laughed, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”    
  
“Just because we are no longer seeing each other, doesn’t mean I don’t care about her,” he said, defensively.    
  
“Well you don’t get to sit outside her window and watch over her,” she said, “that’s not fair for her.”    
  
“I don’t think you’re in position to talk, O’Connor,” he shot back. “You spend a lot of time in Wales for someone whose business lay elsewhere.”   
  
She glared at him. “So what, you’re going to turn me in now?”    
  
“I have an obligation to,” he said firmly, “but I could also tell them I lost the trail. Maybe you snuck off to Ireland.”    
  
“Please don’t,” Clara said quietly, thinking of her parents. “Don’t tell them that. Tell them I escaped to Norway, that I had unfinished business. It’s out of your jurisdiction, right?”    
  
He nodded. “But this means you can’t be seen in London anymore.”    
  
“Talbott, she's fine -”    
  
“I mean it. You cannot be seen in London anymore. You are a serious person of interest to them. Stay away from Diagon Alley, please,” he pleaded.    
  
She shot him an annoyed look, but then nodded in defeat. He finally lowered his wand and his expression softened. “I’m happy to see you my friend, truly,” he said, “when the time comes where I can no longer stay hidden in plain sight, I will come find all of you.”  He pointed to the ring on his finger, and then to the identical one on hers.   
  
She nodded again, and then added, “She’s right there, you know. All you have to do is go up.”    
  
He looked up at the window, then back down at her. “It’s not practical, Clara,” he said simply.    
  
“Love never is, is it?” she added, sadly.    
  
\---   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, maybe there are some Ben stans out there, but honestly, he always seemed like he would be a guy who complains about being friendzoned...
> 
> Also the gays love a good casual touch here and there. We can live off that stuff forever... You know it's true.
> 
> Sorry, not sorry, for the slow burn. I swear it's leading somewhere. 
> 
> Cheers!


	24. Where Dwell the Brave at Heart

CHAPTER 24:  Where Dwell the Brave at Heart  
  
_ October 4th, 1997 _ _   
_ _ Wigtown, Scotland _ _   
  
_ _   
_ Weeks later, Skye found herself back in Scotland in the midst of another grueling training session with the Scottish National team. Her father, no doubt feeling the pressure of a looming suspension of all quidditch activities, wasn’t wasting any moment of training.    
  
Truthfully, she was thankful for the distraction. The past few weeks following Chiara’s sudden departure from Holyhead had been incredibly stressful. Between the attack, lying to Amanda about taking supplies from the clinic, and finding out where Clara was living this whole time, being in Holyhead alone hadn’t been exactly easy lately. Amanda kept trying to get answers about Chiara and why she wasn’t coming into work, and Rath had so many questions about what happened and her relationship with Clara that Skye had actively been avoiding her outside of training.    
  
When she returned to Wales after the events of that day, she found Rath sitting outside her apartment awaiting a full recap.    
  
_ “So, what happened?” Rath asked.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “We got Chiara there safely and she was able to help Merula,” Skye said. “Everything went well.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Well that’s great news,” Rath replied. “Why don’t you seem happy?”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “It’s just,” she started, “when Merula woke up, Clara was the one she wanted to see. She woke up, called out her name and Clara went right to her.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “They’re friends, right?” Rath asked.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “That’s what she says,” Skye said, “but they have this connection that I don’t completely understand. She never talks about it.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Maybe it’s not what you think,” Rath suggested. “Maybe she was just making sure she was in a safe place?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Maybe,” Skye nodded, skeptically.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “So what about you and Clara, then?” Rath pressed on.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “What about us?” she asked.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Well, I mean, a blind wizard could have seen the tension between you two today,” Rath said.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Skye sighed, “It’s impossible to be around her.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Because you love her,” Rath stated.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Was that a question or a statement?” Skye asked.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “You tell me,” Rath said.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Skye rolled her eyes but then relented, “There was a moment, right before I left.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “A moment?” Rath teased. “How salacious.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Skye shot her a look.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “So what was this moment?” Rath continued.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “When I was leaving, I thought that she wanted to kiss me,” Skye admitted, “but we were interrupted. So then I left.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Did you want her to?” Rath asked. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Skye didn’t answer.  _ _   
  
_ _   
_ In the weeks that followed, Skye thought about that question during every waking moment. She knew what she wanted, but the reality was that it would always come at a price. She couldn't just have Clara, she never could, despite how she felt about her.  _   
_ _   
_ _ You never really tried to be with her, though, did you?  _ she scolded herself.  _ Maybe if you were more honest, you wouldn’t have lost her in the first place.  _   
  
Through her many hours of self-reflection she realized that it really didn’t matter either way. It just wasn’t practical to entertain the idea of anything these days, despite what Rath had said about now being the best reason to entertain an idea like that. Clara’s duties lay elsewhere and besides, she hadn’t heard from or seen her since the day in question.  _   
_   
Skye was grateful for quidditch, now more than ever, but she couldn’t help but see how stressed her father was as well. Furthermore, Skye could tell that Ethan Parkin wasn’t the only one that was on edge; Oliver kept shooting her glances during every break they had. After they finished cooling down and her father finished with the post-training debrief, Skye couldn’t ignore him anymore.    
  
“Wood,” she called over to the burly keeper, “get over here.”    
  
He shuffled over to her, dragging his broom behind him.    
  
“What’s going on?” she asked.    
  
“What do you mean?” he replied.    
  
“You’ve been shooting me glances all practice. Is there something on my face or do you need to tell me something?” Skye asked impatiently.    
  
He looked around and dropped his voice to a whisper, “I don’t think we should discuss it here,” he said. “Can you meet me at St. Ninian’s cave?”    
  
“Umm, okay. When?” she asked.    
  
“Tonight, eight o’clock,” he said.    
  
She nodded and then Oliver went to store his broom.  _ What could this be about?  _ she thought.    
  
\---   
  
At eight o’clock, Skye apparated to the entrance of St. Ninian’s cave, which was incidentally one of her favourite places in Scotland. She couldn’t count the amount of afternoons she spent exploring the cave and the adjacent shoreline as a child. Unlike those childhood memories, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be looking back on this night as fondly.    
  
She took a few steps into the cave and illuminated it with a quick wave of her wand. “Oliver?” she asked, tentatively. When there was no answer she decided to explore deeper into the cave, her wand illuminating the crosses carved into the cave wall. She traced the lines with her fingers, like she had done so many times before, when she heard a rustling sound outside of the cave mouth.    
  
“ _ Nox _ ,” she whispered, extinguishing the light at the tip of her wand. She pressed herself up against the cave wall as the sound grew louder. A figure appeared at the cave opening followed by a faint whisper, “Skye?” the voice said, “it’s Oliver, are you here?”    
  
She stepped out of the shadows, “Right here,” she replied.    
  
“Oh thank Merlin,” he said, with a smile. “I don’t know what it is, but something about this place always made me nervous.”    
  
“You’ve made the pilgrimage down before?” she asked him, realizing she knew very little about her former housemate.    
  
“Yes, a few times,” he answered. “My mother was raised Catholic and her family used to make the trip every year, so it was something we did with my muggle grandparents,” he explained further.    
  
“That’s really interesting, actually. All the times I’ve been in here doing all sorts of things and I don’t think I ever thought about it as a religious space,” Skye said with a laugh. She quickly realized what she said and tried to back track. “I mean, I just meant, I didn’t put two and two together,” she said pointing to the crosses.    
  
Oliver laughed, “I know what you mean. My siblings and I used to come in here while the family was swimming and do experiments on rogue creatures.”    
  
Skye laughed and nodded her head despite the fact that she was talking about doing a different type of thing in the cave.    
  
“So,” he said, changing the subject, “you’re probably wondering why I asked you to meet me here. The truth is, I don’t trust a lot of the people on that pitch.”    
  
“Truthfully,” Skye began, “I don’t either.”    
  
“I thought as much, especially about what I need to show you,” he said, pulling what looked like a copy of the Daily Prophet out of his bag. He handed it to her and said, “Check page nine”    
  
She grabbed the paper and flipped to page nine; she was anticipating having to search for what he meant, but it became very clear halfway down the page.    
  
  
_ The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is looking for information concerning Clara O’Connor, former Gringotts curse-breaker, known blood traitor, and conspirator against the Ministry. Any one providing information regarding this dangerous witch will be rewarded. _ _   
  
_ _   
_ She looked up from the paper, terrified. “This can’t be right. Clara is now a fugitive?”    
  
He nodded and added, “Which means others won’t be far behind. Have you seen her lately?”    
  
_This must be why I haven't seen or heard from her, right?_ she thought to herself. “Not for a bit,” she answered, choosing to keep the exact details to herself.    
  
“I heard a rumour,” he continued, “that she was working with the Order of the Phoenix. Is that true?”    
  
“I actually don’t know what she’s doing,” Skye said. “I would assume that she is in hiding.”    
  
“Well, if you do speak with her, there’s an underground radio programme that she may have some interest in,” Oliver said, “it’s called  _ Potterwatch. _ ”    
  
“Potterwatch?” she asked. “Allies of Harry Potter, I assume?”    
  
“Indeed. To tune in you have to tap your wand on the wireless and say the password,” he continued, “and the password is usually someone’s name, someone who battled against You-Know-Who in the past.”    
  
She raised her eyebrows and asked, “So, it’s a guessing game?”   
  
“Basically,” he admitted. “I know it’s not entirely helpful, but she may be able to glean some information that could help her if she can crack it.”    
  
She nodded. It could be very helpful, she thought. But one thing was “And how do you know all of this?” she questioned him.    
  
“I can’t tell you who is running it,” he said, “but they are definitely on our side.” He took a deep breath and leaned up against the side of the cave wall. “What I need to know from you is what your plan is?”    
  
“My plan?” she asked, confused.    
  
“When the time comes, do you want to fight?” he asked her, seriously.    
  
She took a deep breath and then answered simply, “Yes,” she said, “that’s exactly what I want to do, for once.”    
  
“Good,” he said. “We need to make sure people don’t see us talking often, okay?”    
  
“Understood,” she confirmed. “What do you think the next step will be?”    
  
“Convince your parents to protect their home with enchantments and when the time comes, move back to Scotland. From there, we will know how to contact you,” he said.    
  
“Who is ‘we’?” she asked skeptically.    
  
“I am not supposed to say,” he stated, “but since I’m asking a lot of you, I will say that there is a group of us old quidditch friends that have been preparing.”    
  
“I can’t think of anything more Gryffindor than that,” she said with a smile.    
  
“ _ Where dwell the brave at heart, _ ” he sang with a grin of his own. “I should go; if I am late checking into the inn, they may get suspicious.” He gave her a pat on the arm and added, “We’ll talk again soon.”    
  
Skye gave him a nod as he disappeared through the mouth of the cave.    
  
“ _ Their daring nerve and chivalry, set Gryffindor’s apart, _ ” she said softly, to herself. _ Maybe one of these days, I’ll finally do something Godric would be proud of, _ she added, in her head.    
  
  
\---   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay so technically, Skye shouldn't know that the Sorting Hat sang those Gryffindor rhymes because it's from Harry's first year, but I justified it by convincing myself that the Hat probably recycled rhymes sometimes.. 
> 
> Also, throughout my research for this chapter I actually got obsessed with St. Ninian's and it's now on my list of cool things I want to see if we are every allowed to travel again! (Safety first, wear your masks!)
> 
> More to come! Cheers!


	25. Preparation

**CHAPTER 25: Preparation  
**

_ October 7th, 1997  
_ _ Holyhead, Wales _

  
“So she’s a fugitive?” Rath asked Skye. They had just finished another run and were sitting on their usual bench near the water once more.

“I guess so,” Skye replied.

“Honestly, that’s kind of hot,” Rath teased.

Skye rolled her eyes, “This isn’t funny she said,” laughing despite herself, “she actually could be in danger.”

Rath nodded. “What do you think they would do to her if they caught her?”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say they would torture her,” Skye answered, “I don’t think they have any delusions about where her loyalties lie.”

“Loyal to a fault, that one,” Rath agreed. “How do you think they know so much about what she’s doing?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I she told me about this wizard,” she pointed at the blond wizard on the front page, “Yaxley, the new Head of Magical Law Enforcement. She believes he was a Death Eater during the First Wizarding War, claims that he was under the influence of the Imperius Curse.”

“Looks like You-Know-Who forgave him,” Rath added.

“Appears that way. Clara told me she had a few run ins with him while working for Gringotts, which is likely why she is being targeted,” Skye continued.

“Also her stellar curse-breaking records,” Rath observed.

Skye nodded in agreement, “It certainly doesn’t help.”

“I’m sure she’s safe, wherever she is, right?” Rath said.

‘For now, until someone breaks the charm,” Skye admitted. “Honestly, it kind of worries me that I know about it.”

“She trusts you,” Rath said, trying to comfort her, “she wouldn’t have told you that otherwise.” 

“I suppose that’s good news,” she said, “she’s so bloody hard to read.”

“You know what I’ve noticed,” Rath commented.

“I can only imagine.”

“She actually told you a lot of things,” Rath said.

Skye cocked her head to the side, “I guess so, mostly in passing.”

“You always say that she kept you in the dark, but you know a lot about what she was doing,” Rath

Skye thought about it for a moment, “Maybe you’re right. I think I fixated on all the things I didn’t know rather than the things I did know, or rather, do know,” she admitted.

“Maybe you’ve been a little hard on Clara these past few years,” Rath suggested.

“Perhaps,” Skye admitted.

“Just something to think about,” Rath continued. “But in the meantime, we need to start compiling all the information you have on the Death Eaters, anything Clara may have told you that could help us. I am going to start actually reading the Daily Prophet and will try to collect some older ones if I can.”   


“Wait, why?” Skye asked in confusion.

“Because we need to be prepared,” Rath said simply. “When Oliver comes to you, I’m coming with you.”

“Erika, you don’t need to do this,” Skye advised.

“You didn’t think I would let you do this alone, did you?” Rath pointed out.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” Skye admitted.

“If there’s going to be a fight, I want to fight for what’s right,” Rath declared.

“I can’t argue with that, can I?” Skye asked.

“Not a chance. We’re in this together,” Rath confirmed.

\---

_ October 9th, 1997  
  
_

Skye was pouring over her notes when there was a knock at the door. She quickly looked at Rath who began to hide all of the papers. Just when Rath had tucked the final note into her rucksack, Skye approached the door.

“Who’s there?” she asked.

“It’s Amanda,” came the voice from the other side.

“How can I be sure?” Skye questioned her. 

“Ask me a question only I would know,” she replied.

“Okay,” she said, “Where did we first meet?”

“Three Broomsticks, you were celebrating with your quidditch friends and then left to chase the girl you actually love,” Amanda said.

Rath choked on her water. “She’s got a point,” she sputtered.

Skye rolled her eyes, “Okay I’m letting you in.” She opened the door and invited Amanda in.

“We should come up with a more covert question for next time,” Amanda said, taking a seat at the table across from Rath.

Skye nodded. “What’s going on Amanda?”

“I’ll get right to the point,” she said, “Why did you lie about Chiara?”

“What do you mean?” Skye asked, trying not to look at Rath and raise further suspicion.

Amanda laughed, “Alright, let me get this straight. You lie about Chiara’s situation and you force me to give you supplies and now you won’t give me the courtesy of honesty.”

“We didn’t force you to do anything, I had an actual note from Chiara, the supplies were for her,” Skye said defensively.

“I could lose my job, Skye. If they find out that I gave you supplies, they will flag me. You know what this looks like, right?” Amanda said. “It looks like I am supplying someone under the table, either on You-Know-Who’s side which makes me look suspicious, or on the other side, which puts a target on my back.”

“Amanda, we didn’t even think about that. I’m so sorry. We were just doing what she asked us to do. She needed the supplies,” Skye pleaded with her.

“So where is she then?” asked Amanda.

Skye and Rath looked at each other, “What do you mean?” Rath asked.

“I went over to check on her and her place is completely empty, like she moved out,” Amanda continued. “What have you done with her?”

Skye sighed, “We can’t tell you. She was in danger and needed to go to a safer location.”

“Why was she in danger?” Amanda pressed.

“We can’t tell you that either,” Rath said. “For her own protection.”

Amanda glared at them. “Clara’s involved in this, isn’t she?”

They didn’t answer.

Amanda laughed again, “I should have known. After everything, you’re protecting her, even when she puts her friends in danger.”

“Clara didn’t put her in danger, Clara saved her,” Skye shot back.

Amanda was taken aback for a moment. “Is that true, Erika?” she asked Rath.

“Yes. I was shocked to see her; I mean, it had been years. But Chiara was attacked in the woods and Clara found her bleeding out in her apartment.”

“Why was she even in Holyhead to begin with?”

“Checking on Chiara,” Skye answered. “She had set up a safe house for her and was trying to convince her to go. When she arrived and found Chiara in that state, Chiara finally agreed to leave.”  


“Where did she take her?” she pressed.

“We can’t tell you, even if we wanted to,” Rath stated. “The place is under the Fidelius Charm.”  
  
"How did you two even get involved?" Amanda questioned them once more.   
  
Rath gave Skye a look, indicating that she should take this one. "She found us at the harbour," Skye said, "and urged us to follow her."   
  
"Isn't she a fugitive?" she said, before adding, "I read that in the paper."   
  
"Apparently," she answered.   
  
"So how could she just walk through the town unnoticed?" pressed Amanda.   
  
"Amanda, I'm going to stop you right there," Skye stated, "I can't you anything else right now. Not just for Clara's safety, but also for Chiara's. The less people that know, the safer they will be."   


Amanda glared at them again but then softened. “Fine. Now, regarding the potions ingredients,” she said, “next time just ask. I have a fairly large personal store and if any of them require some top ups, please come to me first.”

“Are you sure?” Skye asked.

“Yes, I am sure. I’m not so heartbroken that I can’t still do the right thing, Skye,” she snapped. “If she needs help, I am willing to do so. Just be honest about it. There’s too much dishonesty going on these days.”

“Fair point,” Skye agreed. “Thank you, Amanda.”

She nodded. “See you both on the pitch tonight.” She got up and left, shutting the door behind her.

“Close one,” Rath commented. “Should we let her in on what’s really happening?”

“No,” Skye answered. “It’s Chiara’s business. We’ll only tell her if there are no other options.”

“Got it,” Rath said before pulling out the notes again.   
  
“Where were we?" Skye asked.   
  
"Dolohov," Rath answered.   


“Oh yes, he's one of the worst. He was imprisoned for killing Bill and Charlie’s uncles during the first war,” Skye noted.

“Seems like a nasty piece of work,” Rath said. “He broke out of Azkaban, twice you think?”

“More like, was invited back into society by You-Know-Who,” Skye suggested.

“Okay next,” Rath prompted her.

“Greyback,” Skye said, “Fenrir Greyback, the most vile werewolf that ever existed.”

“The one that bit Chiara?” Rath asked.

“And Lupin,” added Skye. “According to Clara, he bites children and tries to pull them away from their parents so that they can be raised outside of society.”

“What do you think You-Know-Who promised him?”

“The ability to live free and terrorize people, I would assume. He tortures and kills for You-Know-Who and he gets to live as he is,” Skye suggested.

“That’s messed up,” Rath stated.

“But not altogether shocking,” Skye said. Suddenly it dawned on her, “This is why Clara is trying to protect the werewolves. Greyback is going to come for them and promise them freedom.”

“Are you sure?” Rath asked her.

“I’m never completely sure, but this makes the most sense, doesn’t it?” Skye asked in return.

Rath nodded. “Most logical thing I can think of.”

Skye leaned back in her chair. “I think I’ve heard of one more,” she said, “McNair. He is another ministry official who claimed he was under the Imperius curse. He was or maybe still is an executioner of dangerous creatures.”

“Clara must hate him,” Rath replied.

“Despises him,” Skye agreed. She got up from her chair and then turned back, “You know what the issue is?”

Rath looked up, “What’s that?”   
  
“Knowing who the Death Eaters is important, but anyone could be working for them, how do we know?” Skye asked. “Everything we say could be twisted and turned depending on who we are talking to.”    
  
“Wow, when you put it that way, makes me think we shouldn’t even speak to anyone else,” Rath commented.    
  
“We just need to keep the circle close,” Skye said. “If anything serious happens, we need to bring Amanda into the fold, to protect her,” she added.    
  
Rath gave her a quick look. “Are you sure?”    
  
“Only if it becomes too dangerous. Otherwise, we keep this to ourselves,” Skye stated.    
  
“That’s why you’re the captain,” Rath teased.    
  
“Assistant captain,” she corrected.    
  
“A leader either way,” Rath stated. “So what’s next?”    
  
Skye sighed, “Practice.”    
  
“I think I would rather face You-Know-Who,” she laughed.    
  
\---   
  
“Alright team, we have our first big test this weekend against Wimbourne,” Gwenog started. “We will be traveling via portkey, arriving in a safe location close to the premises.” She got up and started writing on the board. “We will be traveling with both our starting unit and our reserves. The last match we had was a quick one, and I would expect more of the same, but they tend to be brutally physical. Rath,” she said turning to Erika, “you and I will have our work cut out for us.”    
  
She continued to write some more notes on the board, “Game time is half past seven and we should be arriving around three. We will have positional meetings once we arrive, a team meal and then a quick rest; McLaggan will run us through a proper warm up at quarter to seven and then a team meeting following that.” She looked around the room, “What are your questions?”    
  
They shook their heads almost in unison. “Good,” Gwenog continued, “but there is one thing I need to warn you about.”    
  
Everyone grew quiet.    
  
“When we arrive in Wimbourne, you will be searched. So only bring essential items for quidditch, your team robes, brooms, etc. We won’t be bringing an equipment manager so you will be responsible for your own items.”    
  
“Who will be searching us?” Skye asked, “Wimbourne officials?”    
  
“No,” said Gwenog, “Ministry officials.” She sighed, “So bring your papers, the ones that show your blood status and your wand information. I can’t promise that this will be an easy process, but it’s the only way that we can continue to play.”    
  
They all looked around at each other, sharing worried glances. Skye thought about the kid on the development team who was muggle born and what would happen to her. Gwenog must have read her mind because she added, “If you have any worries or concerns, please meet with me before you leave tonight and we can figure out a plan. That’s all for now. We will be on the pitch tomorrow morning for a full team session. Individuals will run in the afternoon.”    
  
Skye waited for a moment and then grabbed Rath’s arm. “Meet me at my house?” she whispered.    
  
Rath nodded and then they walked in separate directions to their respective lockers.    
  
\---   
  
Later that evening, Rath and Skye were pouring over the notes once more. Skye was starting to feel anxious about the trip, the impending search, and the idea of being out in the open in an unsafe territory.    
  
“What do your papers say?” Rath asked.    
  
“Pure-blood. My dad’s family is an ancient line, so I should be fine. What about yours?” she asked.    
  
“Pure-blood, but my mother’s family is half-blood at best, so they will likely have some questions for me,” Rath stated.    
  
“Should you go meet with Gwenog?”    
  
“No,” Rath said, “I’m not too worried. There are girls in our program that are in a much different situation.”    
  
“Do you think they will go on the run?” asked Skye.    
  
“Might be the only way to survive. I heard that they bring them in and break their wands before sending them to Azkaban,” Rath replied. “I can’t think of anything worse.”    
  
“Dying seems worse,” Skye said casually.   
  
Rath laughed, “I suppose you are right.” She sighed, “Are you worried?”    
  
“About my blood status? Not at all,” Skye answered, “but about everything else? Absolutely.”    
  
Rath leaned back in her chair. “You need to tell Clara, about the radio programme, and about the searches. Can you get a letter to her?”    
  
“I think so, but it would be dangerous with Agnes,” Skye admitted. “Ironically I think meeting her somewhere would be less dangerous than passing information through the post.”    
  
“How the world has turned,” Rath commented.    
  
Skye nodded. “I will wait until after the game. I want to get as much information for her as possible.”    
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Rath said. She paused, and then after a moment she added, “Do you think we’re going to make it through this?”    
  
Skye looked up at her and with the most confident voice she could muster she replied, “We’re going to damn well try.”    
  
\---


	26. Undesireable No. ?

**CHAPTER 26: Undesirable No. ?**

_  
September 27th, 1997  
_ _ Snyde Manor _ _   
  
_ _   
_ “Have you seen this?” Merula asked, dropping the paper on the table.    
  
Clara picked it up and quickly read it. When her eyes landed on her own name she let out a soft laugh. “Of course,” she said, “Talbott was telling me the truth.” She tossed the paper back on the table. “Yaxley has it out for me, I know he must be behind this.”    
  
“Wait, you saw Talbott?” Merula asked. “What did he say?”    
  
“He accosted me as I was leaving Penny’s,” Clara told them. “Told me that I couldn’t be seen in London, that I was on their watch list.”    


“So he just told you that you are an Undesirable?” asked Ben. “That's what Talbott told you?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“And that he would come find us, when the time was right?” he asked, skeptically.

“When the time came that he couldn’t hide in plain sight, yes,” she reiterated.

“And you believe him? That, that… traitor?” Ben spat.

Clara rolled her eyes, “He’s not a traitor, Ben,” she said.

Ben smacked his hand on the table. “Yes he is!” he yelled. “He’s working for the enemy!”   
  
She and Merula shared a brief look before turning back to Ben, “No he isn’t,” she said, dismissing the notion. 

“Yes, he is,” he said, jumping to his feet. “He sits back and lets these people do terrible things and does nothing to stop it.”

“He risked a lot, telling me about my current status. If they find out, Talbott may need to go on the run himself,” Clara stated.

“But what about the other people? The people that are being ambushed and snatched, he’s just watching it happen,” Ben yelled.   
  
“Ben, you need to take a step back here,” Merula cautioned. “We don’t know what he is doing.”   
  
“He could very well be trying to stop them,” Clara added. “Besides, you’re not exactly in a position to talk, Ben,” she responded.

He whipped around to face them, “I’m in hiding because I have to be. You know I don’t want to be here,” he shot back at her.

“Exactly, Ben. You have to hide because it’s safer for you,” she told him, “ and hiding in the open is a lot safer for Talbott right now. I know he can be selfish, but he never acts without a purpose.”

Ben stared at her in disbelief. “I can’t believe that you just believe him because he says so, just like everyone else. They always give him the benefit of the doubt when I see him for who he really is,” Ben spat.

“They as in who?” Clara asked.

“Everyone!” he said. “He flits in and out of their lives whenever he sees fit and then disappears.”

Clara eyed her friend carefully. “What’s this really about, Ben?”

He shot a look at her, “What do you mean?”

“What’s your real issue with Talbott?” she asked.

“I don’t trust him,” he said firmly.

“Oh good, I was worried you were going to be vague about it,” Clara said, losing patience with him.

Ben glared at her, “I don’t want him coming to stay here. We have enough to deal with.”

“That hasn’t even come up as an option yet. You know he flies solo, so chances are he has his own plan,” Clara said. 

“He better stick to it,” Ben grumbled. “He better not show his face here.”   
  
“Hold on, that’s not up to you, Ben,” Merula said calmly. 

“Listen,” Clara continued, “if there’s something going on here that could impact our goals here, I think I should know,” she said.

Ben scoffed, “Sure, because you tell me everything.”

“I tell you everything that could affect the mission,” Clara said.

“Why have you gone to Wales so many times?” Ben asked.

“To get Chiara,” she said firmly. 

“How did Skye get caught up in that?” he pressed.   
  
Clara glanced at Merula and then sighed and took a seat. “When I made it to Holyhead Chiara was in such a state that I knew I couldn’t get her back by myself without risking splinching. So, I went out to find the only other person that I knew to come help me.”

“And Skye just happened to be there?” he continued.

“I went to find her, in my Animagus form, and brought her to Chiara’s,” Clara said.    


“Wouldn’t people be suspicious of that?” he questioned her. 

“Skye and Chiara are best friends, so no, that wouldn’t be suspicious at all,” she stated, sending a pleading look over to Merula again.    
  
“Why does she know about your Animagus form?” Ben probed further.    
  
“She’s known since school,” Clara answered. “Why are you interrogating me like this?” 

“Because you are keeping things from me. Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?” Ben asked.

“There wasn’t really any time,” Clara said. “You also could have asked me.”

“You’re right, I was just hoping that eventually you would start filling me in on what your plans are here,” Ben said sharply.

“Ben, I’m not keeping anything from you,” Clara said. “Ask me anything. You know everything I do.”   
  
“She’s telling the truth, Ben,” Merula added. 

Ben’s shoulders slumped, his eyes darting between the two of them. “You two always end up keeping something from me, but fine. I believe you,” he said, before sitting back down. “I just don’t really trust anyone but you two and Penny.”

“I know, it’s a complicated time,” she agreed, “we have to be selective with what we tell other people, but we need to make sure we don’t lose faith in each other.”

Ben nodded. They sat in silence for a moment, then Ben got up, “I need to go see Penny,” he said.   
  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ben,” Merula said. “If Clara is an Undesirable, I’m sure they have even worse plans for you.”    
  
He slumped again, “You should just let me go,” he said. “I’m useless here. Just let me leave.”    
  
Merula, it seemed, had finally lost her patience with him, “Ben, I need you to shut up. I have risked a lot to provide you and the others a safe haven. If you leave here, not only will you waste your life, but you will also be putting the rest of us in danger,” she warned him.    
  
“Merula, I-” he started before Merula cut him off once more.    
  
“I am sick and tired of hearing you whine and complain about this. If you feel useless, find a way to be useful. Help Clara with her research, help Chiara brew healing drafts, I don’t really care what you do at this point. We cannot coddle your ego when we are all trying to do what Dumbledore asked of us,” she finished before walking out the door.    
  
Ben was stunned. He watched her walk out and then turned back to Clara. “Oh, I suppose you agree with her, then?”    
  
Clara looked back at him, “I probably wouldn’t have said it that way.”

He sighed. “Needed to be said I suppose.”

“Perhaps,” Clara said. “Look I know you’re frustrated. But you can’t leave here. We have been giving you space because, well, every time we speak to you it seems like you are one word away from exploding.”   
  
“I don’t mean to be,” Ben admitted. “I’m just…”    
  
“On edge?” she suggested.    
  
“To put it mildly,” he shrugged.   
  
Clara sighed, “You can’t leave. We won’t be able to come get you back. You’ll be alone out there.”    
  
He nodded. “I won’t leave if you promise me one thing,” he said.    
  
“Which is what?” she asked, apprehensively.    
  
“Bring me, the next time you leave to find them,” he stated.    
  
Clara paused to think. “Ben, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. “You don’t have an easy disguise like I do.”    
  
“But what if I did?” Ben pushed, “What if I could find a way?”    
  
“I don’t think we have the ingredients for Polyjuice potion, maybe Penny would, but we would have to be discrete,” she contemplated out loud.    
  
“No,” Ben continued, “I mean, what if I could become an Animagus.”    
  
“No,” she said. “It’s too dangerous.”    
  
“You did it when you were thirteen!” Ben yelled. “And at Uagadou, students can master the complex Transfiguration by fourteen. I think I have a little more ability than a fourth year student.”    
  
“I’m not denying your abilities, Ben, but those students have professors that guide them through the complexities. Furthermore, I had Talbott to help me through the process, and Penny to brew the potion. So, unless you want me to invite them over to do it,” she pointed out, “we are not prepared to take this on.”    
  
Her last point seemed to deter him for a moment, but only a moment. “We’ll find a way. I think this is the right choice,” he said and then got up and left.    
  
Clara was at a loss for words. 

\---


	27. Animag-I or Animag-U

**CHAPTER 27: Animag-I or Animag-U** **  
**   
_ October 11th, 1997 _ _   
_ _ Snyde Manor _   
  
  
Two weeks passed and Ben’s mood hadn’t gotten any better. He was still determined to find a way to brew an Animagus potion despite many protests from the rest of the group. Chiara refused to give an opinion, which Clara had to admit, was the smartest decision of all.    
  
“I could help, you know,” Ben said to her as they sat by the fire in the drawing room, “just like Clara does.”    
  
“Clara helps because her animagus is a dog. Her canine demeanour is easily accepted by werewolves. You have no idea what your animagus form will be,” Chiara explained, sipping her drink and perusing the Daily Prophet.    
  
“Well I assumed they would be closely linked to your patronus,” Ben admitted.    
  
“That’s not necessarily how it works, Ben,” Clara chimed in, shifting her attention from her notes to her friends, “my patronus is a leopard and yet my animagus is a dog. Couldn’t be more opposed.”    
  
“But it’s closely linked to your personality, no?” Ben asked. “I mean, look at Talbott. He’s an eagle, which thrives in solitude, which is what he does best.”    
  
Clara was tired of the constant Talbott bashing, but she couldn’t help but agree with that statement. Luckily Chiara piped up. 

  
“The issue is that you have no idea what you’ll become until you transform, and that’s if it works and you don’t die. Furthermore, it’s permanent; there’s no going back from this decision,” she said, trying to calm Ben down.   
  
“Exactly,” Clara added, “it’s not a decision that can be taken lightly.”   
  
Ben was getting frustrated with them, “I don’t really care,” he stated, “I’m going to do this with or without your help. I’ve done the research, I’m ready for the risks. This is how I can be most useful. Otherwise, I’m just another coward in hiding.”  
  
Clara sighed, it really did seem like there was no persuading him at this point. “Okay, if that’s your decision then we are obviously not going to let you go through it alone. But on one condition.”  
  
“What’s that?” he asked.   
  
“Penny brews this potion. She still has the notes from my transformation at her place, under a code of course, and she’s the only one that can do it properly,” Clara said. “We will assist with the other things. You can’t skip through any of the steps, you have to listen to us okay?”   
  
“Fine,” he agreed, “as long as you promise you won’t derail the process.”   
  
“I wouldn’t. Once the process has begun, you could be seriously harmed if we stop it at any point,” Clara confirmed.   
  
“You’re actually going to let me do this?” Ben asked, still unsure.   
  
She looked at him for a moment and then conceded, “Yes. As long as you are patient and follow the steps.”   
  
“I can do that,” he agreed. “When do we start?”   
  
“Well, we need a mandrake leaf to start,” she said and then rummaged through her bag to find a dusty copy of _A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration._  
  
“When is the next full moon, Chi?” Clara asked.   
  
“Next Thursday, the sixteenth,” she answered.   
  
“So we need to get a mandrake leaf before then,” she said and then turned back to Ben, “you’ll need to keep it in your mouth for an entire month, full-moon to full-moon. If you swallow the leaf or remove it from your mouth at any point, you have to start the whole thing again.”   
  
“A full month? How am I supposed to eat? Or drink?” Ben asked, astounded.   
  
“I thought you said you did your research,” Clara commented. “This is the patience part I am talking about. It’s a frustrating process.”   
  
“Okay, okay,” he said, “I’ll figure it out.”   
  
“Good. When we are nearing the end of the month, we will need to find a ‘small crystal phial that receives the pure rays of the moon’. Then we will put your saliva-filled leaf inside, and add one of your own hairs,” Clara continued.   
  
“What does that mean?” he asked.   
  
“It means you spit the leaf in the phial within range of the moon's pure rays,” Chiara explained.   
  
Ben nodded and then urged her to keep going.   
  
“The next step would be to add a silver teaspoon of dew that hasn’t been touched by human feet or sunlight for seven consecutive days and the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth,” Clara stated.   
  
“Then what?” he pressed.   
  
“You hide it somewhere dark and you leave it alone, don’t even look at it, until the next electrical storm,” Clara continued. “During the waiting period you would have to, at sunrise and sundown without fail, chant the incantation _Amato Animo Animato Animagus_ with the tip of your wand placed over the heart. When, at last, there was a lightning storm, go immediately to a large and secure place, recite the incantation one final time, and then drink the potion.”   
  
Ben sat there, thinking deeply for a moment. Clara thought that maybe he was reconsidering, but much to her chagrin, he was not. “Alright, let’s get to work then. I am going to convince Penny to come live here while we brew it. Clara, can you find the chrysalis for me? And Chi, can you identify a place where dew would be untouched?”   
  
They both looked at each other and back at Ben. “Okay,” they agreed.   
  
“Perfect. I will also see if Penny has a mandrake leaf,” he said, mostly to himself. And then, for the first time in weeks, maybe actually in months, Clara saw Ben smile as he turned to face them.  
  
“Thank you, for this, I really need it,” he said.   
  
“Don’t thank us until it works,” Clara said. “A lot can go wrong, so we need to make sure we’re on the same page about this.”   
  
He nodded and then left, presumably to go find Penny.   
  
“Do you think she’ll agree?” Chiara asked her.   
  
“I’m not sure, but I’m hoping she does. Either way, he’s going to attempt this, and I would much rather she be the one to brew it than him,” Clara admitted. “I better go find a moth before they leave England. It’s their pupation period now,” she explained after seeing the expression on Chiara’s face. “We have a rather expansive garden at my home in Ireland, and the moths, though rare in our location, loved to lay their eggs under potato leaves.”   
  
Chiara looked at her in surprise, “There’s so much we don’t know about you,” she laughed.  
  
Clara smiled. “I guess I could look there, but they would expect me to go back to Ireland. I’m supposed to be in Norway, if Talbott convinced them properly.”   
  
“Where else could you look?” Chiara asked.   
  
“The southern part of the country has the highest population of the moths,” she said, “maybe I can start there. Easy enough to root around in gardens as a dog. The trick will be collecting it without being seen.”   
  
“I can scout out some places for untainted dew,” Chiara added. “The forest of Dean should be a good spot. A lot of dense foliage and since the weather has been turning, muggles won’t be camping there.”   
  
“Could you put a protective charm around the perimeter of a spot?” she asked Chiara.   
  
“I think so,” she replied, “that won’t affect it, right?”   
  
“It should be fine,” said Clara. “As long as the dew isn’t touched for a week, then it should be good to go.”   
  
“Okay, we both have our missions then,” Chiara said. “Actually, wait, speaking of missions, I received word from Remus.”   
  
“Oh?” she replied, “what did he say?”   
  
“It’s time, they need to be moved to safety before the full moon.”   
  
“How can we go collect them?” Clara asked.   
  
“I think you can leave that to me,” Chiara answered. “Remus and I were talking and you remember that girl, the one that is on the run with Harry Potter?”   
  
“Hermione Granger?” she offered.   
  
“Yes, that’s the one. Well apparently when Umbridge was controlling Hogwarts two years back, they created an underground Defense Against the Dark Arts club called Dumbledore’s Army,” she explained.   
  
“That sounds like something we would have done,” Clara stated.   
  
“We did do something like that,” Chiara added, pointing at her own ring. “And that’s exactly the point of my story. Hermione made each of the members sign the list and then put an enchantment on it that swore everyone to secrecy. Apparently if someone divulged any information, they had a hex put on them.”   
  
“And did someone?” Clara asked.   
  
“Yes, and as a result, they had a very unfortunate placement of pimples on their face,” Chiara confirmed with a smile.   
  
“Brilliant,” Clara said, “so you want to do something similar with anyone who comes into the house?”   
  
“Yes. We need to tell them the address so that they can get in, but we can assure that they don’t spill the secrets if we place another level of security on it.”   
  
“I like it,” Clara agreed. “Nothing too dark, though, they should feel safe here, not like they are in prison.”   
  
“Got it, don’t let them talk to Ben,” Chiara joked, eliciting another laugh from Clara.   
  
“Yes, don’t torture the poor souls, they’ve been through enough,” she laughed.   
  
“Is that the time?” Chiara asked, pointing at the clock on the mantle.  
  
Clara looked over, the small hand was approaching the six on the dial. “I believe so,” she said.   
  
Chiara nodded, “I think I should go see them now. Can you warn Merula and Ben?”   
  
“Of course,” she said, “be careful out there.”   
  
“I will do my best,” she said. She got up from her chair to leave but then dropped the paper into Clara’s lap, “There may be something in there that could help.”   
  
Clara nodded her thanks and then watched her walk out into the hall. She picked up the paper which was turned to page nine which was the home to politics, ministry affairs, games and sports.   
  
She perused it and then her eyes fell on something that was indeed interesting to her: _Holyhead Harpies at Wimbourne Wasps. Match begins at seven o’clock._  
  
 _It couldn’t hurt, right?_ she thought to herself, _to just check in._ _  
_ __  
\---


	28. The Game, Part 1

**CHAPTER 28: The Game, Part 1**  
  
 _October 11th, 1997_  
 _Wimbourne, England  
  
_  
The team landed in Wimbourne at roughly three o’clock that day. Skye could never get used to the sensation that accompanied travel by portkey. She hoped that they wouldn’t have to keep using it, but Gwenog explained it was the only way the Ministry would allow teams to travel these days. She shook off the nausea and tried to pull herself back together.  
  
She tightened her grip around her broom and checked that her papers were still in her jacket pocket. _Bless the muggles and their invention of zippers,_ she thought, as she approached the official in a black cloak. He was a slight, blond wizard, who couldn’t be more than a year or two older than herself. She realized that she probably went to school with him, but she couldn’t place him.  
  
“Name?” he asked.  
  
“Skye Parkin,” she answered.  
  
“Ethan Parkin’s kid?” he questioned.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Papers?” he asked, reaching out his hand.  
  
She pulled the papers out and handed them over. “Pure-blood. What house?”  
  
“Gryffindor,” she answered.  
  
He passed her papers back. “Your dad was a phenomenal player. You any good?”  
  
“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” she answered, trying to muster a smile.  
  
“Cockiness isn’t attractive in a woman, you should remember that,” he growled at her.  
  
She didn't reply to him. She tucked her papers back into her jacket and gripped her broom. She stepped through the checkpoint to rejoin her team.  
  
“Alright there, Parkin?” Gwenog asked.  
  
“Could be better, could be worse. Nothing like a portkey to shake things up,” Skye admitted.  
  
“Not ideal, but hey, at least we can still play,” Gwenog commented.  
  
“We’ll take the positives where we can get them,” Skye agreed.  
  
“Listen, Parkin,” Gwenog began, “can you take the chasers and run them through drills and strategy for a bit?”  
  
“You don’t want to run the positionals?” she asked.  
  
“I think it’s high time you took that on, you’re more than ready,” Gwenog told her.  
  
"Gwenog,” Skye started, waiting for the others to clear out a bit, “are you okay?”  
  
Much to her dismay, Skye thought she saw a tear escape her eye. “I’m fine, Parkin, just dealing with some stuff, but nothing that needs to be discussed before a game,” she answered, giving Skye a rough pat on the back in the process.  
  
“If you say so, Cap’,” Skye replied. Gwenog walked down the path towards the stadium while Skye stood there stunned; that had been the only time she had ever seen Gwenog show an emotion besides anger.  
  
“What’s wrong?” asked Rath who was behind her. She had been waiting for Amanda to help her carry the medical supplies down.  
  
“Gwenog… was sad?” Skye said.  
  
“Are you sure she wasn’t so angry that she cried?” Rath suggested. “Because I’ve seen that a few times.”  
  
Skye laughed, “No I think it was genuine sadness.”  
  
Amanda appeared beside her and asked “Are you two going to help me with this, or what?”  
  
“Of course,” they said, and grabbed the trunk on either side.  
  
The trio wandered down the path, lugging the medical supplies with them. “Do you think they’re going to let spectators in?” Amanda asked.  
  
“If their blood status is fine, I’m sure they would. They want it to be as normal as possible, right?” Rath asked.  
  
“Seems logical. I can’t imagine anyone half-blood or less will come out, not with the Ministry officials at every entrance,” Skye added.  
  
“Feels weird, though,” Rath said, “the day itself.”  
  
“I know what you mean, something feels wrong,” Skye agreed.  
  
They made it to the changing rooms and the team started to get into their pre-game gear. Skye pulled on her practice robes and then called the chasers over to head up to the pitch to go over some strategy.  
  
\---  
  
At a quarter past seven, they were sequestered in the changing room listening to Gwenog’s passionate pregame speech. Truthfully, Skye had heard it enough times that she could probably recite it at this point. But then, Gwenog said something that was truly shocking.  
  
“Whatever happens tonight, we protect each other, and we have each other’s back. Win or lose, protect one another,” she began, causing the changing room to fall into a dead silence. “But also, you better win.”  
  
“Ah there she is, that’s the Gwenog we love,” Rath said laughing. “We’ve got this, Cap’.”  
  
They all laughed and grabbed their brooms. They came together and cheered before heading up towards the pitch in unison. They mounted their brooms and then took off, seven green blurs streaking through the sky. She did a couple laps, surveying the competition. She knew they had strong beaters, but didn’t have much talent in front of the hoops. Their keeper seemed to play with blinders on; he tended to stay in the middle of the posts and it made wide shots tough for him to get.  
  
She went over the signals they discussed. Pinched fingers was the sign for Parkin’s Pincer, an open palm was Hawkshead Attacking Formation, and a closed fist was the Porskoff Ploy. She had a couple of individual tricks up her sleeve too, but she kept those close to the chest for now.  
  
They took their place around the centre circle as the referee flew in with the quaffle. Skye was matched up with Wimbourne’s top chaser who made it clear from the first whistle that he was not messing around. Instead of going for the quaffle, he quickly introduced Skye’s nose to his elbow.  
  
“FOUL!” yelled the referee after blowing his whistle.  
  
“You okay, Parkin?” Gwenog yelled.  
  
“A-Okay, Cap’,” she said, wiping the blood from her face. She grabbed the quaffle from the ref and on the whistle they resumed play. She knew they were trying to get under her skin, but she knew better now. Years ago, she would have taken her shot right away but not now, no, she would bide her time.  
  
She gave a lateral pass to her teammate crossing behind her and then zig zagged past the defender, arriving between the chaser and the keeper with perfect timing to catch and then toss it into the hoop, putting Holyhead on the board first.  
  
“Beautiful work from the Harpies, ten points to Parkin!” she heard the announcer say above the boos in the crowd. Oh how she loved playing away games.  
  
The quaffle shifted position quickly so Skye sped back to zone up on defense. They were looping in and out in a zigzag pattern. As they approached, Skye figured out the pattern and shot the gap, punching the quaffle off course, sending it back towards the Wimbourne goal. She shot after it, scooping it out and managed to dodge an almost perfectly placed bludger on her route to another score.  
  
“Parkin again! With the steal and a coast-to-coast play! Twenty to zero for Holyhead.”  
  
She was flying as fast as she could to recover on defense and then  
  
WHAM!  
  
A bludger connected with her ribs, causing her to cling to her broom.  
  
“FOUL!” came the referee’s whistle. “Targeting away from the ball, results in a penalty for Holyhead. Who will be taking it?”  
  
“Parkin,” Gwenog called out. “You got this?”  
  
Skye smirked. She stretched out her side and then grabbed the quaffle. She sped towards the goal, faked the keeper up high and then side-armed the ball low, notching her third goal of the day. She flew back to Gwenog and said, “I’ve always got this.”  
  
The play continued for a while and Holyhead was dominating the game, in every area except seeking the snitch. Their seeker had made a couple dives but to know avail, so they pressed on. She grabbed the quaffle after a tricky Wimbourne score and then with a nod to her teammates and an open palm, they assembled in the Hawkshead Attacking Formation. They barreled towards the Wimbourne hoops in a perfect arrowhead, Gwenog and Rath split off the ends to launch a bludger at the Wasp defense. At the last second, Skye faked at the keeper and then dropped the quaffle off to her teammate who dove with perfect timing to catch and net another goal for the Harpies.  
  
The score stood at 150-60, with Holyhead threatening to really blow this one open. Skye was worried, however, as the Wimbourne seeker seemed to be toying with their own seeker. As she was retreating defensively, she turned and a glimpse of something unusual. Near the north end of the stadium she thought she saw a dog that she knew well. _She couldn’t be here,_ she thought, _that’s too much of a risk._ She shook her head, trying to refocus on the action. But then, she saw it; a growing mass of black cloaks, moving their way through the south end of the stadium. She was frozen; her teammates didn’t seem to see them. The action continued and then all of a sudden there was a yell from the north side and then  
  
“It’s the Dark Mark! HIS MARK!” Gwenog yelled, pointing up to the sky. “We need to get back to the changing room, NOW!” she screamed and bee-lined for the ground.  
  
Skye followed behind her, pulling her chasers down with her. They hit the ground and all of a sudden, spells starting coming from everywhere.  
  
“GET DOWN!” she yelled, as a spell whizzed above them, hitting the stands above them. “We need to get everyone into the changing room right now, Rath. Take them and go,” she said to her teammate.  
  
Skye scrambled back to her feet. “ _Protego!_ ” she yelled, throwing up a shield charm around her teammates.  
  
“Parkin! Hawkins is back there still, she got hit by a spell,” Rath asked. Skye whipped around, “I’ll find her. Get the rest of them into the changing room.”  
  
“Don’t play the bloody hero, Skye! I’m coming with you!” Rath yelled and the two of them sprinted up the stairs.  
  
They were greeted by chaos; green and yellow robes, interspersed by black cloaks. Spells were whizzing by, different coloured lights smashing into bodies and stone alike. A black-cloaked wizard was approaching them quickly with his wand aloft. She recognized him from the entrance, the blond wizard who checked her papers.  
  
“If you two know what’s good for you, you’ll run and hide,” he snarled, raising his wand.  
  
“Too scared to fight us?” Skye asked, raising her wand too.  
  
“The fuck are you doing, Skye?” Rath hissed.  
  
“Provoking him into doing something stupid,” she whispered back.  
  
“I’m warning you,” he said, “one step and I blast you.”  
  
“Try me,” she said and took a step forward. On cue, he shot a curse at her, which she deflected, giving Rath time to drop him flat on his back. He tried to get up and run, but Skye stepped on his wand arm and said, “Cowardice is unattractive in a man, you should remember that.” She took his wand and threw it.  
  
Rath grabbed her and then they ran back to where a group of green robes were clustered.  
  
“Hawkins!” Rath yelled at the injured Harpy who was leaning up against the wall. “We need to go!”  
  
“Rath! Skye!” yelled Amanda who was holding onto Hawkins so she wouldn’t collapse. “Thank Merlin, come get her. With your help we can get her back down.”  
  
They sprinted to them, Rath laced her arm around her back and Amanda took the other side. Skye ushered them down the stairs, wand aloft, and ready to protect them. They were halfway down the stairs when she heard a scream and a growl from above. She looked at the two of them.  
  
“Skye, don’t you dare,” said Amanda.  
  
“I have to,” she replied. “You know I have to,” she said this time to Rath.  
  
She grabbed her wrist, “Don’t die,” she answered, "or I'll kill you."  
  
Skye nodded and sprinted back up the stairs and onto the pitch. She saw a group of spectators huddled together, arms linked and terrified. She ran over to them, tossing a shield charm up to protect them.  
  
“Are you okay?” she asked the group, throwing her arms around them.  
  
“Skye? Skye Parkin?” they asked, astonished.  
  
“You need to get to safety,” she said. “Come with me, we’ll go down the stairs by the changing rooms.” She sent up another shield charm, hoping it was strong enough to protect them as they rushed down the stairs. She heard another growl and when she found the source, her blood froze.  
  
 _Greyback,_ she thought, _fucking Fenrir Greyback._ He was approaching a group of spectators that were ducking for cover. He was closing in and then all of a sudden, there was a yell and Greyback was knocked flat on his back. Both he and Skye searched for the source of the spell. And there she was, Clara O’Connor in the flesh.  
  
Skye watched as he turned on her and snarled. “You’re lucky it’s not a full-moon, O’Connor. But I can still rip you limb from limb like this.”  
  
“Not so fast, you vile excuse for a human,” Skye yelled without thinking about the consequences. His attention turned away from Clara for a moment and she took a step towards them and said, “Take another step and I’ll blast you into oblivion.”  
  
“You talk tough for a bloody pixie,” he growled back at her. “I think I’ll enjoy this.”  
  
“I’m a Harpy, you idiot,” Skye yelled. As soon as he took a step towards her she shouted, “ _Stupefy!”_ She thought her spell hit the target, but Greyback barely flinched. One second he was launching himself at her, the next second she felt a blow to her side and landed on her back, knocking the wind right out of her.  
  
She was slipping in and out of consciousness but she heard Clara shout and then there was a scuffle. Greyback appeared to be struggling on the ground, yelling profanities and threats. She opened her eyes and saw that he was tied up. Clara walked over and kicked him square in the mouth.  
  
She heard her say, “You’re not mine to kill.” And then she felt Clara beside her, checking her vitals. Skye,” she said, “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”  
  
“Clara?” she whispered, barely keeping her eyes open. “Why did you push me out of the way?”  
  
“You saved me first, just thought I should return the favour,” Clara answered, shrugging. Skye heard a spell fly over their heads and Clara shielded her. “I need to get you out of here,” she said, brushing the hair off of Skye’s forehead, “can you try to get up?” Just that touch alone was enough for her to lose consciousness once more. But instead, she nodded and let Clara help her into a seated position.  
  
“I think I am okay,” she said, “just knocked the wind out of me.”  
  
She felt Clara wrap her arm around her back, “Well that’s good to hear. Up you get,” she said, pulling her up to standing. “Pull your wand back out, just in case, but I’ve got you.”  
  
“You always do,” Skye said without thinking. She couldn’t help it, but her head dropped to Clara’s shoulder, which jolted her back into awareness. “Wait, where are the others?”  
  
“In the changing room, Rath’s guarding the door,” Clara said, awkwardly carrying her down the steps.  
  
Suddenly it dawned on her and she stopped, “You came back for me?” she asked Clara.  
  
Clara nodded, urging her forward.  
  
“Why were you here in the first place?” she asked, leaning into her as they moved down the stairs.  
  
Clara looked over at her with a sheepish look. “Truthfully, just wanted to see you play. You were bloody brilliant out there, you know before the Death Eaters,” she said.  
  
Skye stopped again, “Clara, I… I don’t know what to say,” she said. How could she risk herself for her, after everything that they had been through.  
  
“You don’t need to say anything, I just want to get you back to the changing room before they come back,” Clara answered.  
  
“You could have died, you could have been captured, but you still risked your life for me,” Skye said, holding onto her.  
  
“Not to be dramatic, but I would give my life to keep you alive, Skye,” Clara told her as she tried to move Skye forward but she wouldn’t budge.  
  
Skye paused for a moment and then threw caution to the wind. “I don’t want to live in a world without you, Clara,” she said firmly before pulling Clara into her and kissing her deeply. She let herself sink into Clara, trying to tell her everything she had wanted to tell her since she saw her at the wedding. She pulled her closer and held her as tight as she could, not wanting to waste another second. But just when she thought everything would be okay, she heard another curse whizz their way, breaking the spell. Clara shielded her with her body and threw up a shield charm, protecting the two of them.  
  
“We have to keep going,” Clara said and Skye nodded with a grimace. They finally made it back down to the changing room, back to where Rath was waiting.  
  
“Oh thank Merlin,” she said, running over to help. “Are you alright, Skye?” she asked.  
  
“Never been better,” she smiled, looking at Clara, who, much to Skye’s disappointment, wouldn’t make eye contact.  
  
Rath turned to Clara and asked, "And you?"  
  
She nodded. “Get her inside and then get yourself in there too,” Clara said to Rath. Just then, they all heard a voice far down the corridor yelling.  
  
“There she is!” it bellowed, “Clara O’Connor! Don’t let her get away!”  
  
“Bloody hell, that’s my cue,” Clara said, throwing up another shield charm. She turned back to Rath and Skye. “If they question you, just say that I was trying to protect people, and that you don’t know me,” she demanded. “You can’t let them know that you know me other than from school, okay?”  
  
They both nodded and then Skye started to say, “Clara, I-”  
  
“I know,” Clara said, making direct eye contact this time and pleaded with her, “I have to go.” She turned and yelled “ _BOMBARDA!_ ” at the pillar halfway down the corridor, causing it to explode and prevent the Death Eaters from approaching them. She then sprinted in the other direction and was gone.  
  
“Come on,” said Rath, pulling her into the changing room.  
  
She reluctantly followed suit, wanting nothing more than to chase after Clara. But it was no use, Clara was unsafe here and she would be a complication. She sat down beside Rath and sunk into the bench, trying not to notice the glare she was receiving across the room from Amanda.  
  
“What happened up there?” Rath whispered.  
  
She looked over at her and then nodded towards the rest of the group. “I’ll tell you later,” she said, and let herself close her eyes and lean back into the locker.  
  
\---  
  



	29. The Game, Part 2

**CHAPTER 29: The Game, Part 2**  
  
 _October 11th, 1997  
Wimbourne, England  
  
_  
Clara apparated to the woodlands about a hundred yards from the Wimbourne facilities. She knew the main path to the stadium, but given the circumstances, she would have to approach it from a different angle, and do it in disguise. She transformed quickly, under the cover of the untamed forest, and started trotting around to the back entrance, away from the spectators.  
  
As she came around the corner, she immediately froze. She could feel it before she saw it. Everything went cold and it felt like ice was shooting through her veins. Then she saw them, floating above the entrance like the demented guardians that they were. To make matters worse, she saw three black-cloaked wizards patrolling the area on foot.  
  
 _Death Eaters,_ she thought, _disguised as ministry workers._  
  
She crept closer to the edge of the treeline, trying to figure out how or if she even could get past them. The dementors were not a factor in her current state, but creating a diversion without using her hands was going to be difficult. She backpedaled into a covered grove and transformed back into her human form. She pulled a decoy detonator from her mokeskin pouch and slowly snuck back to the treeline once more. She placed the decoy on the ground and nudged it to activate it. The decoy waddled towards the guards and then:  
  
BANG!  
  
The detonator went off, horns blazing. Black smoke shot out of it as it whirred around in circles and blaring.   
  
“What the bloody hell was that?” said one of the wizards guarding the entrance. The three of them sprinted into the forest.  
  
Clara took that moment to quickly turn back into a dog and ran through the back entrance to the quidditch grounds. Darting from post to post, she made her way through the crowds. It wasn’t uncommon to see animals at quidditch matches, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She slipped behind some spectators that were heading up to the top level of the stands. Taking her seat, she finally saw the familiar green robes that she had grown to love.  
  
Right off the start, she could tell Wimbourne was not messing around. Even before the quaffle had been touched, the Wimbourne chaser gave Skye an elbow to the face. It took all of her will not to bark and draw attention to herself. On the ensuing play, Skye made easy work of it and notched the first score of the game for Holyhead.  
  
It was nice, to forget for a moment, that the world was collapsing around her. That’s what she loved about quidditch, ever since the time she started training to make the house team. The only thing that mattered was the task at hand, and she couldn’t help but be momentarily jealous of the players on the pitch.  
  
She watched the green and yellow blurs whip around the pitch at an incredible speed. She knew Skye was good, that much was clear, but she had gotten so much better in the past two years; she seemed to be able to score at will. In addition to having a star chaser in Skye, Holyhead’s beaters, Rath and Gwenog Jones, were two of the best in the league. If there was any weakness to be seen, it was their seeker. Every time she made a play for the snitch, Wimborne’s defensive strategies seemed to be one step ahead of her.  
  
There was a cheer in the crowd and then a collective groan as Skye shot the gap on one of Wimbourne’s attacking plays and took the quaffle back the other way, dodged a great bludger and then scored it with ease.  
  
The action went back and forth for about thirty minutes, with the Harpies leading most of the way. After another failed attempt by the Holyhead seeker, Clara’s attention drifted to the north end of the stands, to the group of black-cloaked people making their way through the crowd. She cocked her head to the side and watched them walk towards the spectator entrance. She turned to look at the south end, near the back entrance, and noticed another group of black-cloaked people standing there with their hands in their pockets.  
  
Her instincts took over. Canine or human, it didn’t matter, she could sense that something was wrong.  
  
 _Shit,_ she thought, _they’ve got their hands on their wands, and they’re blocking the entrances._ She got up from her seat and started to descend the stairs, moving towards the main entrance. She crouched behind a pillar and watched the cloaked wizards clustered together. She could intercede, as a dog, but she would be much more useful with her wand in play.  
  
She waited and watched, listening as the crowd gasped dramatically and then booed. She couldn’t tell what happened, but it sounded like the Wasps fans were not happy with it. She heard people moving above her in the stands, the cloaked wizards heard it to. She edged closer to them, using her augmented sense of hearing to her advantage.  
  
“He told us to wait,” one wizard said. “And I’m not going to be the one to mess it up.”  
  
“Well the crowd is about to disperse,” said another. “We need to act fast or we’re going to lose this opportunity.”  
  
The first wizard turned around and grabbed the other by his cloak, pushing him up against the wall. “We don’t move, until he tells us.”  
  
“Fine,” said the second wizard, straightening out his cloak. “We’ll wait.” His hood slipped down for a moment and Clara recognized him immediately. _Peterson,_ she thought, _what the bloody hell is he doing here?  
  
_ “It’s in our best interest to be patient,” came a third voice, which made her blood freeze. _Merula, what the hell is SHE doing here?  
  
_ “The last thing we need to do is be patient, Snyde,” spat Peterson. “We’re outnumbered a hundred to one.”  
  
She whipped around, “Well it’s a good thing we aren’t attacking anyone then, is it?” she hissed.  
  
“Quiet, both of you,” said the first wizard, “enough of your childish bickering. Snyde is right. We aren’t here to attack anyone, just send a message. When the final whistle blows, I toss up the Mark, there will be mass panic, and then we leave.”  
  
Peterson glared back at both of them. “Fine,” he agreed. “But if someone attacks me, all deals are off.”  
  
Clara took a step back and accidentally trod on something that made a sudden crack. The three of them turned immediately to face her, wands drawn.  
  
“Oh, it’s only a dog,” said the first wizard who Clara did not recognize.  
  
Merula, however, stared at her with a panicked look in her eye. “Shoo, dog,” she said, waving her hand towards the exit, “Get out of here.”  
  
Clara barked and growled at her, baring her teeth, and then walked back towards the pitch. Her cover was blown, and if Merula was here, that meant she was deep in it now.  
  
She didn’t have time to think about Merula, however. Despite what the wizard said, this could go wrong so easily. She sat on the steps close to the edge of the pitch, her eyes darting between the game and the main entrance. She watched Skye zoom past her, dropping the quaffle off to her teammate with a perfect pass and nettting another goal for Holyhead, bringing the score up to a whopping 150-60.  
  
She looked over at the far edge of the pitch and saw the mass of black cloaks growing. More and more black cloaks were appearing and were coming towards them.  
  
In the distance she heard Merula ask, “why did Yaxley send so many?”  
  
“What are you talking about?” said the first wizard.  
  
“Look,” she said, and Clara heard the group of them walk up the stairs. “What is going on?”  
  
“Looks like we will be fighting,” he answered with a cackle, “ _MORSEMORDE!”_ he yelled, shooting his wand into the sky.  
  
Clara couldn’t help herself; she launched herself at the wizard, hitting him square in the chest with her paws. She landed on him and without thinking, sunk her teeth into his wand arm.  
  
“AHHHHHH! Get it off me!” he yelled. “Snyde! Peterson! Help!”  
  
All of a sudden, arms clasped around her midsection and she heard Merula whisper, “Go, before this ends badly.”  
  
She snarled and sprinted at Peterson, knocking him to his feet as well, causing his wand to fall out of his hand. She snarled and snapped her teeth at him, before jumping off of him and running headlong in the direction of the changing rooms.  
  
It was absolute chaos. She looked up and saw the Dark Mark suspended over the stadium. People were screaming and bodies were flying around her. She turned the corner, finding a secluded place and quickly transformed, emerging in her human form. She kept running, tossing up shield charms around people as the black cloaks descended around them. She found her way down to the changing rooms and saw the sign for the visitor’s room, green cloaks were piling inside it.  
  
“Clara?” came a voice, “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Rath was in the corridor, helping the therapist bring in an injured player.  
  
“Oh you know, came for the quidditch, stayed for the Death Eaters,” she replied. “You two need to get in the changing room and stay there. I overheard them on the stairs, they are just trying to send a message.”  
  
“Bloody grim message,” Rath replied. “McLaggan, bring Hawkins inside. I’m going to stay out here and help Clara.”  
  
Amanda turned around, “Of course you’re here,” she snapped. “Don’t get yourself killed, Erika. Gwenog might kill me for letting you stay outside.”  
  
“Well at least that way I’ll know she cared,” she laughed, ushering Amanda into the changing room.  
  
“You know, for someone that stole my personal property, she certainly hates me,” Clara commented before tossing up a shield charm as a rogue spell came their way.  
  
“Well, she wants what you already have,” Rath said, sending a spell back up the stairs.  
  
“And what’s that?” she asked her. Just then a spell shot over their heads and Clara pulled Rath down to the ground.  
  
“Cheers, mate,” Rath said.  
  
“Anytime,” Clara laughed. They clambered to their feet.  
  
Rath brushed herself off. “The thing you have, that Amanda hates you for, it’s Skye Parkin.”  
  
Clara shot her a look, “Don’t be daft,” she said. “Where is she by the way? Is she safe?”  
  
Rath gave her a worried look and said, “She went back up.”  
  
Clara and Erika exchanged a glance. “You’re a fugitive, O’Connor. If you’re caught, you know what will happen?” Rath said, grabbing her arm.  
  
“It’s a risk worth taking,” she said. “Hold the fort. I’ll get her back.”  
  
She sprinted up the stairs looking for a glint of Holyhead green. It didn’t help that every third spectator was clad in it. She didn’t dare transform at this point, she was too close in proximity to the Death Eaters. She ran up into the stands and then she saw something that terrified her to the bone.  
  
“Greyback,” she said out loud.  
  
He was advancing on a group of people who were ducking for cover as another Death Eater shot a spell their way.  
  
“ _Stupefy!”_ she yelled, knocking him flat on his back. Greyback turned at the sound of her incantation and growled at her.  
  
“You’re lucky it’s not a full-moon, O’Connor,” he snarled. “But I can still rip you limb from limb like this,” he added with a laugh.  
  
“Not so fast, you vile excuse for a human,” came a voice from her periphery. She looked over and saw Skye emerge from the steps, her wand raised. “Take another step and I’ll blast you into oblivion.”  
  
Clara had never seen that look in her eye before, she looked like she wanted to kill him.  
  
“You talk tough for a bloody pixie,” he growled. “I think I’ll enjoy this.”  
  
“I’m a Harpy, you idiot,” she yelled. He took a step towards her as she shouted, “ _Stupefy!”_ The spell hit the target, but Greyback barely flinched. He laughed and then launched himself at her. Clara acted fast and pushed Skye out of the way, taking a blow from Greyback as they both hit the ground. She rolled over in pain but managed to jump to her feet just in time to dodge another swipe. She shot a non-verbal stunning spell at him, causing him to flinch and buying her just enough time to yell,  
  
“ _INCARCEROUS!”  
  
_ Thick ropes appeared out of thin air and bound his arms to his sides and knocked him to the ground. The ropes were tightening around him.  
  
“ARGH!” he yelled. “You’re going to regret this, O’Connor. When they catch you, I’m going to make sure they let me have you.”  
  
“You’ll have to catch me first,” she said, kicking him square in the mouth.  
  
“You’re going to regret not killing me, you pathetic, weak, witch,” he snarled.  
  
“You’re not mine to kill,” she said, leaving him sputtering on the ground. She looked up and saw Skye stirring on the ground. She sprinted over to her, sliding onto her knees. “Skye,” she said, “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”  
  
“Clara?” she whispered, barely keeping her eyes open. “Why did you push me out of the way?”  
  
“You saved me first, just thought I should return the favour,” Clara answered. She heard a spell whizz past her ear and she ducked just in time. “I need to get you out of here,” she said, brushing the hair off of Skye’s forehead, “can you try to get up?”  
  
Skye nodded and Clara helped get her up to a seated position. “I think I am okay,” she said, “just knocked the wind out of me.”  
  
Clara wrapped her arm around Skye’s back, “Well that’s good to hear. Up you get,” she said, pulling her up to standing. “Pull your wand back out, just in case, but I’ve got you.”  
  
“You always do,” Skye said, her head dropping to Clara’s shoulder. “Wait, where are the others?”  
  
“In the changing room, Rath’s guarding the door,” Clara said, slowly maneuvering them down the stairs.  
  
Skye stopped her, “You came back for me?”  
  
Clara nodded, urging her forward.  
  
“Why were you here in the first place?” she asked, leaning into her as they moved down the stairs.  
  
Clara looked over at her, trying to decide how to say it without sounding pathetic. She decided honesty was the best option. “Truthfully, just wanted to see you play. You were bloody brilliant out there, you know before the Death Eaters.”  
  
Skye stopped again, “Clara, I… I don’t know what to say,” she said.  
  
“You don’t need to say anything, I just want to get you back to the changing room before they come back,” Clara answered.  
  
“You could have died, you could have been captured, but you still risked your life for me,” Skye said.  
  
“Not to be dramatic, but I would give my life to keep you alive, Skye,” Clara admitted as she tried to move Skye forward but she wouldn’t budge.  
  
“I don’t want to live in a world without you, Clara,” Skye said firmly before pulling Clara into her and kissing her deeply. Clara held her tightly, hoping this moment would never end, losing herself in everything she had been missing. Here, in this moment, she felt whole and like everything would be okay in the world. But just then, she heard another curse whizz their way, breaking the spell. She threw up a shield charm around them and shielded Skye with her body.  
  
“We have to keep going,” Clara said and Skye nodded with a grimace. They finally made it back down to the changing room, back to where Rath was waiting.  
  
“Oh thank Merlin,” she said, running over to help. “Are you alright, Skye?” she asked.  
  
“Never been better,” she smiled, looking at Clara, who was trying not to convey anything.  
  
Rath turned back to her, "And you?" she asked.  
  
She nodded in response, “Get her inside and then get yourself in there too,” she said. Just then, she heard a voice far down the corridor yelling.  
  
“There she is!” it bellowed, “Clara O’Connor! Don’t let her get away!”  
  
“Bloody hell, that’s my cue,” she said, throwing up another shield charm. “If they question you, just say that I was trying to protect people, and that you don’t know me,” she demanded. “You can’t let them know that you know me other than from school, okay?”  
  
They both nodded and then Skye started to say, “Clara, I-”  
  
“I know,” she said, pleading with her to go into the changing room, “I have to go.” She turned and yelled “ _BOMBARDA!_ ” at the pillar halfway down the corridor, causing it to explode and prevent the Death Eaters from approaching them. And then she sprinted in the opposite direction, tossing shield charms up as she went.  
  
She ran and ran, making it to the entrance before  
  
THUD!  
  
She ran into something solid and black and landed flat on her back. Everything hurt, and she swore she was dying, but then suddenly she was fine. She looked up and saw Merula standing watch over her. She looked down and said, “Stun me.”  
  
“What?” Clara said, her voice barely reaching a whisper.  
  
“Stun me, or they will make me take you,” she reiterated.  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Do it. Now,” she demanded.  
  
Clara tightened the grip on her wand and flicked it at Merula, causing her to crumble to the ground. She got up, nudged her with her foot in case another Death Eater was looking and then sprinted out of the entrance. As soon as she reached the boundary she thought _Snyde Manor_ and then turned on her heel, disapparating to safety.  
  
\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh y'all knew I wouldn't let you hang on forever without a little something . 
> 
> More Chapters to come :)


	30. The Double Agent

**CHAPTER 30: The Double Agent  
  
**

_October 11th, 1997  
_ _Snyde Manor  
  
_

Clara stumbled through the doorway, blood streaming from her shoulder.

“CLARA!” someone yelled from the hallway. “Chiara! Come quick, Clara needs our help."

Clara was slumped against the wall, pressing her arm to try and restrict blood flow, but her strength was waning and the pain was overwhelming.

“Help, please,” she called out, “please help me.”

“Clara, what happened?” said Penny who was now by her side. “Where were you?”

“I was in Wimbourne, there was a Death Eater attack at the quidditch game,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face, “I escaped but I was going so fast that I splinched myself trying to get away.” She reached her arm out to show Penny

“Merlin’s beard,” she said, “Okay we need Dittany fast.” She turned and yelled down the corridor, “Chaira! We need Dittany!”

“On it!” came Chiara’s voice from a distance. There was a scramble and then she heard more footsteps. 

Clara was fading fast. She clung onto Penny and let her body weight sink into her, ”If I die, please tell her,” she whispered.

Penny brushed the hair off of her forehead, and shushed her. “You’re not dying, Clara,” she said, “not on our watch.”

All of a sudden Chiara was there too. “This is going to hurt like hell, Clara. But I need to do it,” she said. “Bite this.” She shoved a dragonskin glove into her mouth.

She nodded and clamped her teeth around the glove and then she felt her robes being ripped off of her arm. She heard them unstopper a vial and felt the liquid fall onto her arm.

“UURRRRRRGH,” she yelled, the scream muffled by the glove, as she clenched her jaw. It was endless pain, she felt it in every cell in her body. Her body went limp, the pain taking over completely. But then, it started to fade. As it subsided, she remarked that the pain from the dittany was worse than the splinching.

She leaned back up against the wall, trying to reclaim her breath. Penny rubbed her good shoulder, trying to calm her down. “You’re okay now,” she said, “you did well.”

“Lost a chunk of my arm though, that’s not so good, is it?” she replied.

“Better than your life,” Chiara commented with a shrug.

She laughed, “Great point.”

“So what happened?” Penny asked.  
  
Clara took a deep breath. “I was at the quidditch match, they had ministry officials, well Death Eaters, checking wands and blood status, all expected, but then they started pouring in. Black cloaks everywhere. I overheard them saying they were just supposed to send a message, but I guess it got out of hand. One of the Death Eaters put the Dark Mark over the stadium and it caused a mass panic. I barely managed to get out of there alive, let alone safely.”  
  
Penny and Chiara gave each other a look. “Let’s get you to the drawing room,” said Chiara. “Can you walk?”  
  
“I think so,” she said. She leaned into Penny, and together they managed to get her to her feet. “Legs are fine,” she smiled at her friend.  
  
Penny’s brow furrowed. “Still, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”  
  
They walked slowly into the drawing room where Ben was waiting. She was seated for no more than a second when Ben started going at her again.  
  
“Why were you in Wimbourne?” he asked, shoving a drink into her arm.  
  
“Oh, I’m fine, Ben, thank you for asking,” she said rolling her eyes. “I was watching the quidditch game.”  
  
“Why? Why on earth would you expose yourself like that?” he demanded.  
  
She glared at him and took a sip of her drink.  
  
“I thought you said you were going to tell me everything?” he continued.  
  
She sighed, “Ben, I told you I would tell you everything that could affect the mission. This was not mission related.”  
  
“So why go then?” he pressed her.  
  
She looked over at Penny and Chiara who caught on quickly.  
  
“Go easy on her, Ben. She just lost part of her shoulder trying to escape them,” she said, coming to Clara’s defense. “You’re lucky it wasn’t your wand arm,” she added, inspecting her wound.  
  
“I went to go find a moth chrysalis, for your potion,” Clara said, “and one of the best places to find them is in the southern part of the country. So I went to Wimbourne, yes a little bit selfishly, but when I got there I saw the Death Eaters outside of the stadium and dementors flying above the entrance.”  
  
She paused to take a sip, “It gets worse,” she added. “After I got in there, I was able to identify a couple of the black cloaks and Peterson was one of them.”  
  
“I always knew he was bad news,” Ben commented. “Who else?”  
  
“Greyback,” she said, “he tried to kill me, until I was actually saved by-“  
  
“Anyone else?” Ben said, cutting her off.  
  
She looked around the room at her friends. This wasn’t her secret to tell. “No,” she lied, “the rest was a blur.”  
  
After awhile, Ben asked, “So did you get the moth?”  
  
Clara glared at him, “No, I did not get it,” she said, “I’ll try again tomorrow.”  
  
“Umm, no you will not,” said Penny. “We just patched you up. You’re staying put for awhile, right, Chi?”  
  
“In my experience, all the patients I have had who’ve splinched themselves say that the next day is always the worst,” Chiara began, “so yes, you need to stay here for a few days at least.”  
  
“But the chrysalis,” Ben started but Penny quickly cut him off.  
  
“Ben, if you don’t shut up about your potion, I won’t brew it,” she snapped, which made him back off completely.  
  
“We’ll get it before the full moon,” Clara said, “I promise.”  
  
“Okay,” he said, “I think I’m going to go get some air. Penny, will you join me?”  
  
She glanced over at Clara and asked, “Are you okay if we step out?”  
  
“Of course, nothing whiskey can’t fix,” she smiled.  
  
“I won’t stop you from drinking, but maybe you should consider a sleeping potion tonight,” Chiara suggested, “I’m not over exaggerating how painful it will be.”  
  
“I don’t doubt it,” she said.  
  
They sat there in silence for a moment and then Chiara asked, “So who saved you? From Greyback.”  
  
“I think you know who,” Clara answered, not looking over at her.  
  
“How did it happen?”  
  
“I managed to make it to the changing rooms and ran into Rath. Skye hadn’t come down yet, my guess is that she was trying to usher spectators down the stairs. So I went back up and saw him there, terrorizing some innocent people. I tried to stun him, but he got right back up and came for me. That’s when Skye appeared out of nowhere,” Clara recounted.  
  
“And is she okay?” Chiara pressed.  
  
“I think so. Greyback launched at her, I pushed her out of the way and took the blow. Managed to gain enough time to cast Incarcerous and tie him up,” she continued. “I managed to get her back to the changing room and then I ran as fast as I could.”  
  
“Would have been quicker as a dog, no?” Chiara asked.  
  
“It would have been, but I couldn’t risk them seeing the transformation,” she admitted. “So I took a risk and it paid off. Well, almost. I lost part of my shoulder,” she added with a laugh.  
  
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Chiara said, prodding the wound. “A little bit of muscle but mostly just skin.”  
  
“As long as it still works, that’s fine by me,” she said. She leaned back in the chair and looked over at Chiara. “There’s something I need to ask you.”  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
“There was a moment, when Skye was about to attack Greyback… well it looked like she wanted to kill him. I’ve never seen that before, from her,” she admitted.  
  
Chiara sighed. “She’s determined to fight,” she said.  
  
“I don’t want that for her. I know she’s an adult and can make her own decisions, but she hasn’t been fighting for the past seven years,” Clara argued.  
  
“She’s been training though, I’m sure you noticed,” Chiara teased.  
  
Clara rolled her eyes, “It’s not the same though, you know that.”  
  
“I know, I know, and for the record I advised against it, especially when it came to you.” Chiara said.  
  
“What do you mean?” she asked.  
  
“I told her that the more danger she puts herself in, the more distracted you will be from the objectives Dumbledore gave you,” she said plainly. “And it’s true, isn’t it? You went there because you couldn’t help yourself. She was so close and despite the barriers, you found a way. When they started attacking, you found your way to where she was. And when she didn’t come back down, you went to find her.”  
  
“I couldn’t just leave her,” she said.  
  
“Of course not, but you went to the game for a reason,” Chiara reminded her.  
  
Clara sighed, “I suppose I did.”  
  
“Because you love her,” Chiara stated.  
  
Clara looked up from the fire, “Whether or not I do, it doesn’t really matter right now,” she started, “because we are barreling towards a war for our survival.”  
  
Chiara sighed, “I hope the day comes where you can finally stop fighting,” she said.  
  
“Me too, but until then, we’ve got work to do.”  
  
\---  
  
 _October 19 th, 1997  
Snyde Manor  
_  
  
A week had gone by and none of them had seen or heard from Merula. Initially, Clara assumed she was staying away so she wouldn’t have to explain to the others why she had been there. But as the days pressed on, Clara started to worry about her.  
  
The werewolves had arrived a few days earlier, prior to the full moon, and Penny, despite her reservations, made the decision to start brewing the wolfsbane potion at Snyde Manor and living with them most days of the week.  
  
“Truthfully, the shop hasn’t been busy in weeks. But I still need to go in every day just to be sure,” she said cheerfully, sitting cross-legged in front of her cauldron, which was her happy place.  
  
Since the move in, and the mandrake leaf he shoved in his mouth, Ben was in a remarkably better mood. He didn’t even mind when Clara asked him to do some research.  
  
She was feeling better since the spliching mishap, although during the second day, she wasn’t altogether sure she was going to make it. Chiara had been correct, the pain was far worse on day two. Despite the chunk of skin that was healing over in patches, Clara was ready to leave the house to try, for the second time, to find a moth chrysalis for Ben. She was tempted to expand her search even further west, say, Wales, but came to her senses.  
  
“Not all Death Eaters are stupid,” Ben said, “I mean Peterson is a troll but even he managed to break curses.”  
  
“It would be risky to go there, especially since you were protecting Holyhead players and spectators,” Chiara said. “They might put two and two together.”  
  
“I’m sure they already know who my quidditch friends were at school, so it wouldn’t be a difficult trail to follow,” Clara admitted to them, “I just hope they listened when I told them to deny knowing me.”  
  
“So where will you go?” asked Penny.  
  
“Well, I was thinking down on the southern coast. I know there are a lot of farm lands and that’s where they like to burrow,” she said.  
  
“Maybe I can come with you?” asked Chiara. “I’m not well known enough to rouse suspicion.”  
  
“It would be risky, especially on the move,” Clara said. “Are you even strong enough to go?”  
  
“I think so,” she said, “but we’ll have to come up with a plan.”  
  
“Of course,” Clara agreed.  
  
Meanwhile, Ben was none too pleased. “So she can go but I can’t?”  
  
Clara rolled her eyes, “Ben, have you read the paper lately?”  
  
“No,” he said, “Why?”  
  
Clara nodded at Penny to show him. She reached into her bag and grabbed the Sunday Prophet from that morning. “Read it,” Penny said, handing it to him.  
  
He picked it up and started reading it out loud, “ _Ben Copper, former curse-breaker for Gringotts and known ally of fugitive, Clara O’Connor. He is muggle-born and likely to be dangerous. Any information that leads to his capture will be rewarded.”_ He looked over at them. “They couldn’t have picked a worse picture of me, could they?” he added, pointing at the photo with a grim smile.  
  
“Welcome to the club,” Clara smiled back.  
  
“I can’t wait for this potion to work,” he said dejectedly.  
  
“Just a few more weeks,” Penny said cheerfully.  
  
“And a lightning storm,” added Clara.  
  
“And a clear beautiful night,” said Chiara.  
  
Ben laughed despite himself, “Thanks for that.” He sighed and got up, “I think I’m going to check on the lads and see if they need anything.”  
  
“I think I’ll join you,” said Chiara.  
  
“And I actually need to get to the shop to check inventory,” said Penny.  
  
Clara laughed, “And I have nothing to do so I’m going to sit right here.”  
  
They all laughed and then one by one left the room. Clara pulled the paper back to her lap and started to read it from back to front. The paper wasn’t reliable when it came to telling the truth, but when you learned how to read between the lines, it was a valuable resource.  
  
As she was reading, she heard a knock on the doorframe behind her. She turned around and saw Merula standing there with a black eye and her robes torn to shreds.  
  
“Merula?” she whispered, “Where have you been?”  
  
She slunk into the room and sat down across from her, “Hiding. I couldn’t bring them back here so I went off on a solo mission,” she said. “After the debacle at the game, Greyback went on a rampage. He thought some of us tried to help save people and he was particularly upset that we let you go. I tried to explain that you got the jump on me and stunned me, but he wasn’t listening.”  
  
“Wait, did he do that to you?” Clara asked, pointing at her robes.  
  
She looked down, “Oh this?” she remarked, “No that was just from hiding in the woods,” she added. “The black eye was from your stunner.”  
  
“Oh shit,” Clara said, “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Oh don’t apologise, it was helpful because they believed that you actually tried to hurt me,” she said with a smirk, “probably the only reason they didn’t kill me on the spot.”  
  
“I shouldn’t have been there,” Clara admitted, “I’m lucky no one saw me transform.”  
  
“Yeah, that was a pretty dumb decision,” Merula agreed.  
  
Clara looked at her friend, “I didn’t tell them, if you were wondering.”  
  
Merula glanced up at her and with a genuine look of relief, said, “Thank you.”  
  
“You do owe me an explanation though,” Clara said, “If I’m going to cover for you like that.”  
  
Merula nodded, “That’s fair.”  
  
Clara got up and poured them each a glass of Ogden’s firewhiskey and managed to bring them back to the chairs with only one hand. Her left arm was still not completely healed, something that Merula noticed.  
  
“What’s wrong with your arm?” she asked, alarmed, and grabbing the glasses from her.  
  
Clara sat back down in her chair and reached out her hand for her glass, “I splinched my shoulder trying to escape the attack,” she said.  
  
“Oh bloody hell, O’Connor. How much of it?” she pressed.  
  
“Tis’ but a flesh wound,” Clara said with a small smile.  
  
Merula shook her head, “You know no one but Copper gets those references.”  
  
Clara shrugged, “Okay so tell me what’s going on.”  
  
“I can’t tell you everything but I will tell you what I can and you aren’t allowed to argue with me about that, deal?” she asked.  
  
“Fine,” Clara said, sipping her drink. “I just need some information.”  
  
“It wasn’t supposed to be an attack. It was just supposed to be a shakedown of a couple Wimbourne officials to try and locate Ludo Bagman.”  
  
“He’s been on the run for years, hasn’t he?” Clara asked. “Something to do with owing the goblins money.”  
  
“Exactly. So, during the first wizarding war, he was accused of passing information to Augustus Rookwood. He was never convicted; it’s likely that he had no idea that Rookwood was working for the Dark Lord. But anyway, they are going after him as a blood traitor, and a good faith deal with the goblins.”  
  
“The goblins don’t care about a human war,” Clara said. “They’ll just want what’s owed to them.”  
  
“That’s what I told them,” Merula said, “but they are hell bent on getting Bagman. Anyway, we were just supposed to ‘send a message’ but then Greyback appeared. He was the reason it got out of hand.”  
  
“That makes a lot of sense,” Clara had to admit. “But again, why were you there? And Peterson?”  
  
“Oh Peterson has gone over,” she said. “The pure-blood bullshit feeds his superiority complex. He’s finally allowed to be the sexist, homophobic, and disgusting troll that he is. And they partnered me with him because they don’t really trust me still, and he, unfortunately knows me best.”  
  
“And should they trust you?” Clara asked her.  
  
“No, they shouldn’t, but I play the part well,” she said. “I sent stunners instead of hexes, used non-verbals to protect people instead of curses, I do everything I can to not hurt people but it’s a tough act to handle.”  
  
Clara gave her a long look. “How much longer can you do this? How much longer can you be a Double Agent?”  
  
She sighed, “It’s getting harder and harder. But I can’t leave now.”  
  
“How can I help?” Clara asked.  
  
“I hate to ask it, but keep covering for me, for now,” she said. “And then I’m going to need you to pull me back out.”  
  
“I don’t even know what that means, Merula,” Clara admitted. “How can I pull you back from something I don’t even understand.”  
  
“You will.”  
  
Clara sipped her drink. “Now I know how Ben feels when I keep things from him,” she laughed. “You should check in with the others. They’ve been worried.”  
  
Merula nodded. “I’ll go after this drink,” she said, tipping her glass in Clara’s direction.  
  
“Sounds good to me,” Clara said.  
  
Little did they know, but Ben was standing just outside the door.  
  
\---  
  
  



	31. You Can't Cancel Quidditch

**CHAPTER 31: You Can’t Cancel Quidditch**  
  
 _October 24 th, 1997  
Holyhead, Wales  
  
_  
“Cancelled?” Skye asked furiously. “They can’t cancel quidditch.”   
  
“Well, they actually can,” Gweong said, slamming the letter back on the desk. “Their board members don’t want to risk losing any more assets.”   
  
“Assets being athletes?” asked Skye.   
  
“Exactly,” said Gwenog. “And speaking of that, what the hell were you thinking, going back up there?”   
  
“I was thinking about the fact that my teammate was back there,” she said, her voice rising.   
  
“You’re lucky you didn’t die,” Gwenog said in frustration.  
  
“Yes, I was lucky,” Skye answered, “but I would do it again in a heartbeat.”  
  
Gwenog sighed, “I know. I really should be thanking you, Parkin. If anything had happened to her, or to you, I would have been completely responsible. You were a true leader out there, and I’m proud of you.”   
  
Skye was stunned; she had been expecting a much harder response from Gwenog. “Thank you, Gwenog. I mean, I didn’t do it for that, I just, I couldn’t leave her up there.”   
  
Gwenog nodded. “Rath said you saved someone else too?”   
  
“I wouldn’t say that,” Skye began, thinking about her interaction with Greyback. “I distracted one of the Death Eaters and then when they turned on me, I was a bit helpless. In the end she ended up saving me.”   
  
“She was a friend of yours, wasn’t she?” Gwenog continued.   
  
Skye nodded. “A close friend, actually.”   
  
“Lucky that she was there,” Gwenog commented.   
  
Skye’s shoulders dropped and before she could stop herself she was telling Gwenog all of her frustrations. “I just felt so useless really,” she said. “It’s been years since I’ve actually tried to duel someone, or even train. The most magic I’ve been using lately are silly household charms that my mother taught me.”   
  
Gwenog nodded in agreement. “I understand the feeling. It really puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?”   
  
“Honestly, it makes me want to get the team together and start training or dueling skills,” Skye admitted. “Quidditch just seems so pointless right now.”   
  
Gwenog eye her closely. “How did you feel during the game?”   
  
“Truthfully?” she started, “I felt amazing. But since the moment I heard you yell ‘ _Dark Mark’_ I haven’t been able to think about anything but the attack.”   
  
“It was a horrific event,” Gwenog acknowledged, “I don’t think you’re the only one feeling that way. It is, however, much more concerning when I hear you say it.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Skye replied.   
  
“it’s just that usually I don’t have to try so hard to get you to focus on quidditch,” Gwenog noted with a small smile.   
  
Skye laughed despite herself. “It’s weird for me as well. But don’t you find it hard to focus?”  
  
“I do at times, but then again, the distraction can be really helpful,” Gwenog admitted.   
  
Skye sighed and leaned back into her seat, “I wish we had a game tomorrow, just for the distraction.”   
  
“An easy win would be a good morale boost,” Gwenog agreed. “But regardless, this might be in our best interest. With your injury, Chudley may have had a shot.”   
  
Skye grimaced, thinking about her broken ribs that hadn’t quite healed yet. “Do we even know why it’s cancelled? Are they scared of more attacks?” Skye asked.   
  
“Chudley doesn’t want to risk traveling right now. You know they have a lot of muggle-born athletes,” Gwenog explained.   
  
“We also have muggle-born athletes, Gwenog,” Skye reminded her.   
  
Gwenog looked up solemly, “Not anymore.   
  
Skye stared at her captain. “You cut them?” she asked.   
  
Gwenog shook her head, “No, of course not. They made the decision to leave.” She got up and pulled three markers off the board. “The Lewis twins, beaters on the development squad, and Williams, our reserve keeper.”   
  
“You should have told me earlier,” Skye stated. “I could have helped.”   
  
“The less people involved the better. This way if they come to question you, you have no idea where they went,” Gwenog explained.   
  
“Do you think they will come?” Skye asked.   
  
“It’s only a matter of time, Parkin,” Gwenog admitted. “You might need to consider your next moves if the season does end.”   
  
“What will you do?” Skye asked her.   
  
“I will stay here, take care of the program, try to keep the status quo. I won’t leave until they make me,” Gwenog stated firmly.   
  
Skye couldn’t help but admire her captain in that moment. It made her think about something her mother had told her once, that sometimes doing nothing can be the bravest thing of all. Here she was, wanting so badly to finally fight, but she had teammates and members of the community that would be looking to her and Gwenog for strength and stability.   
  
“I respect that a lot, Gwenog,” Skye confessed. “I just don’t know if I can sit back and watch it happen around us.”   
  
“I know, I see it in your eyes, Skye. But for now, I need you to keep your head down and focus on the task at hand. We have a matching coming up on Hallow’een against Puddlemere United and we need everyone focused on that. You need to help me keep them locked in, you need to be a stable presence for your teammates,” she insisted.   
  
“Of course, Cap’, you can count on me,” Skye assured her.   
  
“Great. Now I need you to do another favour for me,” Gwenog began, “Because you can’t fully participate in training, I need you with the development team again.”   
  
Skye groaned, “Fine. But only if I can make them run the loop tonight.”   
  
Gwenog looked up from her notes and smiled. “Give em hell.”   
  
\---  
  
After practice, Skye found herself walking down the familiar the path to the harbour with a hot coffee she picked up from her favourite café, timing it so she wouldn’t run into Amanda. It had been two weeks since the attack in Wimbourne and her body still hadn’t completely healed. During the chaos at the stadium, her adrenaline must have kicked in, but as soon as she sat down, the pain took over. Amanda had given her a potion for the pain, but even that couldn’t cover it.   
  
In the aftermath of the attack, she and her teammates stayed locked in the changing room for what felt like hours. As time passed, the screams subsided and the crashing grew fainter. Finally, they heard a knock on the door from a Wimbourne official telling them that the coast was clear. They had arranged an emergency portkey for them, likely illegally she realized. At the time Skye wasn’t even sure she would be able to hold on to the old tin can she was presented by Gwenog, but somehow they all made it back to Holyhead safely.   
  
Gwenog gave the team a week off to decompress and rest their injuries, so Skye had taken complete advantage of the time she had to continue her research. The blond wizard who checked her papers was familiar, likely someone she knew from school, but without a name she was left wondering what his role could have been. Getting a shot in and watching him try to run away was satisfying in the moment, but upon reflection, she realized he was scared too.   
  
And then there was Clara. She should not have been there and yet she was. She shouldn’t have revealed herself and yet she did to save her. She wanted so badly to see her but as of now, she didn’t even know if she was safe.   
  
She hadn’t told anyone about the kiss on the stairs, and she wasn’t sure that she was going to. After the shock from the attack had subsided, she and Rath returned to their new routine of coffee, research and attempting to crack the Potterwatch code and while she could have told Erika during any of those sessions, part of her still didn’t believe that it had actually happened. She did, however, give Rath a detailed play by play of what had transpired up above, including her questionable decision to insult a rabid, sadistic, creature. She just decided to keep the fact that she and Clara had kissed a secret for now.   
  
She sighed and sipped her coffee. “Ow,” she said, looking down at the cup, which was still steaming hot.   
  
“That was stupid,” came a voice from behind her.   
  
Skye whipped around and saw her best friend leaning up against the lamppost. “Chi!” she exclaimed.   
  
“Shh,” Chiara said, walking over to join her on the bench.   
  
“What are you doing here?” she asked in an audible whisper.   
  
“Well I heard you saved the great Clara O’Connor, and, insulted Fenrir Greyback in the process, so naturally, I had to come hear the whole story,” Chiara smiled.   
  
“So she made it back safely?” Skye asked, elated.   
  
Chiara nodded, but then added, “Well mostly.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Skye demanded.   
  
“Well, she splinched herself on the way in,” Chiara said, “but we patched her up quickly,” she added, attempting to reassure Skye.   
  
Skye shook her head, and then looked down at her feet. “I didn’t save her, I just distracted him,” she admitted, “she ended up saving me.”   
  
“That’s not how she said it happened,” Chiara assured her. “She said you appeared out of nowhere and saved her life.”   
  
Skye didn’t answer right away. Finally she turned to Chiara and asked, “Did she tell you why she was there?”   
  
Chiara nodded, “She did. There’s the version she told Ben and then there’s the version Penny and I picked up on pretty quickly.”   
  
Skye laughed and asked, “Which one are you going to tell me?”   
  
Chiara looked at her sideways, “You already know why she was there, Skye,” she said matter-of-factly.   
  
Skye stayed silent for a moment. “Is she safe?” she asked.   
  
“For now,” Chiara admitted. “She’s planning to go on the move again soon. We’ve advised her to take some more time, but you know how she is.”   
  
Skye sighed, “So why are you really here?”   
  
“To check in on you, but also to tender my official resignation from the Harpies,” Chiara told her. “I am taking a job with Penny at the Apothecary.”   
  
Skye raised her eyebrow, “A job at the apothecary?”   
  
“I needed a cover for why I decided to leave,” she confessed. “And this way, I can help Clara out in the field, without risking her being seen.”   
  
“And you’re sure you’re not a target?” Skye questioned her.   
  
“I guess I can never be sure, but I certainly can’t sit back and watch her sacrifice herself for others,” she stated. “I should head over to the clinic now though. I don’t want to be seen by too many people while I’m here.”   
  
Skye nodded, then she thought about all of her research. This could be the only opportunity to share it all with Clara. “Hey, Chi. Can you meet me at my apartment as soon as you’re done in the clinic?”   
  
“Of course,” Chiara replied.  
  
“Good,” Skye said, getting up from the bench. “I have some things I need to show you. Meet me there as soon as you’re done, okay?” And then she ran back up the path back to her flat.   
  
When she got back to her place, she flew up her stairs, quickly opened the door and then started putting together the notes from her research with Erika. Notes on suspected Death Eaters, patterns they found regarding the numerous disappearances, possible werewolf attacks, and weather events that they thought could be related to dementors in the area.   
  
About thirty minutes into her organization, there was a knock at the door and Skye dropped the papers she was holding. “Who’s there?” she asked, approaching the door with caution.   
  
“It’s me, Chiara,” came a voice from the other side.   
  
Skye opened the door to let her in but Chiara stopped her. “You should always verify my identity before opening the door.”   
  
“Right,” Skye said, “I’m still not used to it.”   
  
Chiara nodded and stepped through the door, “You need to make it a habit, especially now.” She took a seat at the table. “So what did you want to show me?”   
  
“Rath and I have been doing a lot of research, digging through Daily Prophets, etcetera,” she said.   
  
“The Prophet’s version of things is a little distorted these days,” Chiara commented.   
  
“Yes, that is true,” Skye acknowledged, “but if you read between the lines, you can start to see patterns. Like the disappearances, for example,” she added, pushing the notes towards Chiara so that she could read them.  
  
“Jacob Erland, Jennifer Winston,” Chiara read out. “How did you find these names?” she asked.   
  
Skye pulled a recent copy of the Daily Prophet. “Here,” she said, flipping to page nine. “They list people they are looking for here. They don’t say why, but it’s probably linked to a Death Eater attack, don’t you think?”   
  
“Hmm, it could be,” Chiara pondered, “but we can’t be sure. How is this different than the other announcements?”   
  
“Because they aren’t high profile. Take Clara’s for example,” Skye began, “they have clear reasons to believe that she is working against them, which is why she is an Undesirable, so they want to make it seem like she is a criminal conspiring against the ministry.”   
  
“I mean, technically she is,” Chiara laughed.   
  
“I suppose you are right about that,” she agreed with a laugh of her own, “but then look at the way they word it here, about them wanting to find them for their own safety… it feels like they’re trying to cover it up.”   
  
“It’s certainly possible,” Chiara agreed.   
  
“I want you to give all of this to Clara, can you do that?” Skye asked her. “I don’t know if any of it will help, but I wanted to do something.”   
  
Chiara nodded. “I think she would like that.”   
  
Skye smiled despite herself. “Oh wait, there’s something else,” she said suddenly.   
  
“Oh?”   
  
“Do you remember Oliver Wood?” she asked Chiara.   
  
“He was a teammate of yours at Hogwarts, right?” she answered.   
  
“The very same. He has recently joined the National program and after one of our last sessions he cornered me to tell me about an underground radio programme for allies of Harry Potter that Clara may have some interest in. It’s called _Potterwatch._ ”   
  
“ _Potterwatch_ ,” Chaira began, “yes I think Clara might be very interested in that.”   
  
“I thought as much,” she said. “But here’s the issue, I don’t exactly know how to tune in.”   
  
Chiara gave her a look, “Can you elaborate?”   
  
“Right, so Oliver told me that in order to tune in you have to tap your wand on the wireless and say the password which is usually the name of someone who fought against You-Know-Who in the past,” she directed. “I know it’s not a lot to go on, but if she can crack it, it may have some helpful information.”  
  
Chiara smiled. “Clara and Penny have broken harder puzzles in the past. I’m sure they crack this one too.”   
  
Chiara got up from her chair. “I do need to go now, before they start to worry.” She walked to the door and then turned, “You can come, if you want to.”   
  
Skye’s heart leapt at the notion. “I don’t know, Chi, I don’t think I should.”   
  
Chiara nodded. “I hope I see you soon, my friend. Until then, please protect yourself.”   
  
“You too, Chi,” she said, “And protect her. Please.”   
  
Chiara smiled. “She’s got you for that, Skye,” she winked, and then stepped out the door.   
  
_If only,_ she thought.   
  
\---


	32. The Tipping Point

**CHAPTER 32: The Tipping Point**   
  
_ October 31st, 1997 _ _   
_ _ Snyde Manor _   
  
  


“Dumbledore,” said Ben, tapping the wireless with his wand. When nothing happened he raised his wand again, “James Potter,” he said tapping it once more. "Lily Potter." Still nothing. “This is bloody impossible,” he said, turning to Clara.    
  
“It’s certainly frustrating,” Clara agreed. “Let me see if I can find some more names in these notes.” She pulled the stack of parchment that Chiara had dropped off the week before. She was so impressed by Skye and Rath’s initiative but more importantly, the information was quite helpful.    
  
She shuffled through the notes and landed on the list of Undesirables that Skye had put together. “I’m pretty high on this list, you know,” she said to Ben.    
  
“It’s the vaults, I bet,” he commented. “You broke a legendary curse.”    
  
“With the help of all of my friends,” she added.    
  
“Yes, but no one remembers our names,” he said, not hiding the bitterness.    
  
“Ben, not only are you a curse-breaker, but you specialized in dealing with dangerous creatures,” she said, attempting to soothe him.    
  
“Who spent the better part of the last two years sitting behind a desk because of it,” he reminded her.    
  
“Regardless, you’re much more adept at charms than the rest of us, and without you, I never would have been able to break the cursed vaults in the first place,” she reiterated. “We’re better as a team.”   
  
He nodded and turned back to the wireless, “Alastor Moody,” he said, tapping it again. “Weasley?” he added with another tap. All of a sudden the wireless came to life. He whipped around to face Clara again, “I did it!” he exclaimed. “Penny! Chiara! Merula! I found the password!”    
  
Clara jumped from her seat just as she heard footsteps coming from different areas of the house. Eventually they were all gathered around the old wireless.    
  
“It seems like we got in mid-broadcast,” Ben said as they listened carefully.    
_   
_ _ "...in other news, there has been a string of muggle attacks in Devon that the authorities seem to be calling a “freak incident”. I will turn it now to Royal with the story.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Thank you, River,”  _ came a deep, booming voice that Clara knew well.  _   
_ _   
_ “Is that Kingsley?” she asked.    
  
“Sounds like it,” said Merula.    
  
_ “The muggle authorities are claiming this was due to an electrical storm in the neighbourhood. Three muggles were found dead outside of their homes. Our contacts in the Order of the Phoenix suggest that this was likely the doing of the Death Eaters, using the Killing Curse on these poor people,”  _ said Kingsley.  _   
_ _   
_ _ “Unfortunate news from our friends in the muggle community. What do you say to those wizards and witches who would say that the muggles are not our concern when the Death Eaters start coming for us?”  _ asked River.    
  
_ “To those people I would say, that when you decide to not pick sides, you are essentially choosing the side of the oppressor. Muggles are in just as much danger as we who oppose the new regime are, and they do not deserve this as much as the muggle-born witches and wizards we are trying to protect. I would encourage each and every one of you to consider what you can do to help others around you,”  _ he finished.    
  
_ “Wise words from Royal, and a sentiment felt by us all,”  _ said River,  _ “I will pass it along to Romulus now for our most popular segment, ‘Pals of Potter’!”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Thank you, River,”  _ said another voice they knew,  _ “There is no news on Harry Potter’s whereabouts since the alleged infiltration of the Ministry of Magic in September. But rest assured, Harry Potter is still alive and well. 'The Boy Who Lived' remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ “That’s Remus,” Penny remarked, “don’t you think?”    
  
“Absolutely,” agreed Chiara.    
  
_ “And now for our last segment of our Hallows Eve broadcast. We have been given word that the following witches and wizards are currently missing: Jacob and Mimi Erland, and Jennifer Winston. It is reported that they may have been involved in a scuffle with some Snatchers but no one has heard from them since. The Prophet has reported them missing, but please, we would ask you not to report to the authorities if you find them, they are likely not safe.” _ _   
_ _   
_ Chiara looked over at Clara, “Those names were in Skye’s notes,” she whispered.    
  
“Looks like she had that right,” she nodded in return.  _   
_ _   
_ _ “...and now we will take a moment of silence for all those who we have lost,”  _ River continued.  _   
_ _   
_ Silence filled the room and Clara took a moment to think about the muggle families and the witches and wizards who were currently missing. She thought of their families, and then to her own. Considering the unpleasantness, she wondered if her mother would miss her and hope for her safe return.    


_ "Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: The next password will be 'Fawkes.' Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night."  
  
_ After River’s final word, the dial on the radio began to twirl and then it shut off on its own accord.    
  
“Well that was,” Penny began.    
  
“Illuminating,” Merula answered.    
  
“Was it helpful?” Chiara asked, turning to Clara.    
  
“I think so,” she agreed. “It certainly proves Skye’s point. The Prophet has a lot more helpful information than we originally thought. We’ll have to keep tuning in.”    
  
“I just have one question,” Ben chimed in.    
  
“Which is?” Clara asked.    
  
“Were you one of the Death Eaters attacking the muggles in Devon?” he asked, turning to Merula.    
  
“What are you talking about, Ben?” she answered, calmly.    
  
“I think it’s a valid question, don’t you, Clara?” he continued, shifting back to ask her.    
  
“Ben, what are you implying?” she said firmly.    
  
“Oh I don’t think I’m implying anything, Clara. I think I’m being very clear with what I am asking,” he stated firmly. “And Merula isn’t answering the question.”    
  
“Ben, how could you ask her that?” Penny exclaimed.    
  
Ben got up, “Tell them,” he said, “tell them where you were when Clara was attacked in Wimbourne.”    
  
Merula glared at him. Clara stepped forward to interject but Merula shook her head.    
  
“What is going on you two?” Chiara asked them calmly.    
  
“I was at the stadium on the day of the attack,” Merula admitted, causing Penny to gasp. “But I assure you, it’s not what it sounds like.”    
  
“It sounds pretty bad, Merula,” Chiara said.    
  
“It sounds like you were wearing one of the black cloaks that day,” Ben continued. “So are you or are you not a Death Eater?”    
  
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now,” Penny said, covering her face with her hands.    
  
“I know it sounds bad, but you have to understand, Clara wasn’t the only one who was given a task from Dumbledore,” Merula continued. “And I would like to think that you of all people know that I would never willingly participate in something like that, Ben. You know what I stand for.”    
  
“In that case, tell us what he asked you to do,” Ben pressed on.    
  
“I can’t. It’s too dangerous. None of you can know what I’m doing,” she said.    
  
Ben glared at her, “You told Clara”    
  
“Yes, because Dumbledore told me to tell her,” she said. She was becoming visibly frustrated. “And she barely knows. I only told her enough so that she can pull me back out when the time is right.”    
  
“It’s true,” Clara said, stepping in to defend her, “I don’t know the details of what she’s doing, but I know that what Dumbledore asked of her was dangerous.”    
  
Ben rolled his eyes, “You know, I’ve had it up to here with your lies,” he said, raising his hand to shoulder level. “You won’t let me leave this house, I can’t help you with your missions, and yet Merula is working for the other side and Clara is letting this all happen.”    
  
“I am NOT working for the other side, Ben. Can’t you see that?” Merula yelled. “Dumbledore asked me to do this. I don’t want to do it, but he realized that we needed information from them. Open your eyes and look around this place. What do you see? Pure-bloods, everywhere. Where are my parents? In Azkaban for supporting the Dark Lord, or possibly dead. What is my last name, Ben?” she rattled off. “Dumbledore knew that I was the only person who could do this properly. And Clara is the only one that can save me from it.”    
  
“Why is it always Clara? Why can’t anyone else help you? Why can’t I help you?” Ben bellowed back.    
  
Merula looked at Clara and then back at the group, “Because she was the family I chose,” she began, “when I married her brother.” And then she walked out of the room.    
  
The silence that followed was so loud that Clara could barely hear Penny talking to her. “Clara,” she said, “is this true?”    
  
She nodded, but then added, “I knew she said yes, but I didn’t know they made it official. I left, remember,” she said. “And then he died.” Penny made a move to place a comforting hand on her arm but Clara needed to get out of there. She followed Merula’s lead and left the room, heading directly to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her, slid down to the floor and began to weep uncontrollably. She pulled out the worn picture from her mokeskin pouch and held it tightly, trying to weather the differing emotions that were cascading over her.    
  
Merula never talked about it, but she never pressed her too. It was comforting, knowing they had at least one moment of happiness before everything crumpled around them again. She felt guilty for leaving all over again. It was so selfish, running because of a broken heart. She should have stayed, she should have done more, she should have been there.    
  
Clara sat there for a while after the tears ceased falling until there was a faint knock at the door. “Clara,” came Penny’s voice. “Can I come in?”    
  
She got up slowly and opened the door so that Penny could slip in. She returned to her spot on the floor, letting her head lean back against the door. Penny joined her and dropped her head to Clara’s shoulder.    
  
“You know, when I found out Jacob died, I wanted to come find you, but Talbott said I shouldn’t,” Penny admitted. “He said that you would reach out when you were ready. I trusted his judgment, but I should have listened to myself because I know you, and I know you still aren’t ready, but it doesn’t mean you didn’t need us.”    
  
Clara felt a tear roll down her cheek, “You know what upsets me the most?”    
  
“What’s that?” Penny asked, grasping her hand.    
  
“I left because my heart was broken, and I was too much of a coward to tell anyone why,” she confessed.  "It wasn't just because I needed out of Egypt, although that was true, it was because I needed to be anywhere but here."   
  
"You know, you never did tell me the whole story. Your letters were vague and then they stopped coming," Penny told her. "But here's what I gathered from it. After the accident you wanted to quit, but then something else happened, which I'm guessing was between you and Skye, which led to you needing a change of scenery. Am I on the right track?"   
  
Clara nodded. "I should have told you," she said.  
  
"Did you tell anyone?" she asked her softly.   
  
"Jacob. I told Jacob everything," Clara said. "Sometimes I think that maybe if I hadn't of left, none of it would have happened."   
  
“It's hard to say, Clara, especially because no one seems to know what happened," Penny remarked. "But there is one thing I do know and that is that Jacob loved you, dearly. He told me that, you know, the last time I saw him.”    
  
Clara smiled at the thought of Jacob telling her best friend something so uncharacteristically emotional. But then it struck it; overt emotions were not something Jacob engaged in. It struck her as odd. “When did you see him last?” she asked.    
  
“It was probably a month or so after you left,” Penny recalled. “He came into the shop and told me that he was worried about you, that he loved you, and that if anything were to happen to him, I had to promise I would take care of you.”    
  
“Wait, a month or so after I left?” Clara asked her.    
  
“Yes, I would say so, probably June or July,” Penny answered.    
  
“And that’s why he came in? To tell you that?” Clara pressed.    
  
“That’s the part I remember at least,” Penny said, but all of a sudden something dawned on her. “Wait, there was something else,” she said, grabbing her arm and turning to face her. “He was asking if we had any dealings with foreign wizards. And then he asked for potion ingredients for a particular potion that we don’t make.”    
  
“What was the potion?” Clara asked hopefully.    
  
“Oh, I can’t remember,” Penny groaned, “if only I had my books here, maybe they would jog my memory.”    
  
“I bet there are a ton of books in the library that might have something that could help,” Clara suggested. “I can help you look.”    
  
“Great idea, but I’ll also grab my books from the shop tomorrow,” Penny said.    
  
The duo leaned back against the door once more and let the silence overtake them. After a moment or two, Penny asked, “So what really happened at the stadium?”    
  
“I told you everything, didn’t I?” Clara answered.    
  
“You didn’t tell me what happened with you and Skye,” she said with a knowing look in her eye.    
  
But just when she was about to answer, there was another knock at the door.    
  
“O’Connor, Haywood, we have an issue,” said Merula.    
  
Clara and Penny got up and Clara opened the door.    
  
“What’s going on?” Penny asked her.    
  
Merula sighed, “Ben’s gone.”    
  
\---   



	33. The Snatcher Camp

**CHAPTER 33: The Snatcher Camp**   
  
  
_October 31st, 1997_ _  
_ _Snyde Manor_ _  
  
_ _  
_ “Gone?” Clara asked, “What do you mean, gone?”   
  
“I went to check on him after, well, I walked out. I felt bad for yelling at him,” she admitted. “He didn’t want to talk, said he was going to help Chiara with some stuff downstairs. The young bloke, one of the ones Remus sent over is ill and Chiara has been tending to him so I assumed that’s what he meant. But I went to check with Chiara just now and she said she hasn’t seen him.”   
  
“Have you checked the entire house?” Penny asked. “It’s possible that he’s sulking somewhere.”   
  
“I thought of that,” Merula continued, “but unless he’s disapparating into different rooms each time I come near him, he’s not here.”   
  
“Okay let’s do a sweep of the house, in case he is doing that. Penny, you take the upstairs, I’ll take the cellar, Merula you do the main floor,” Clara said, taking charge. They each nodded and rushed off to search.   
  
Clara walked down the stairs to the cellar and found Chiara mixing a bright red potion. “Have you seen Ben?” she asked.   
  
“Not since all the fun in the drawing room,” she told her. “James and Davie haven’t seen him either,” she added, nodding to the room the boys were sharing.   
  
“How are they doing by the way?” Clara asked.   
  
“Davie isn’t feeling well, hence the potion,” she replied, pointing to the cauldron. “The last transformation took a toll on them. It’ll be nice to have you for the next full moon. It always eases my transformations,” she smiled.   
  
“I hope I’m in good form by then. What else can we do to help them?” Clara asked.   
  
“Just invite them upstairs more,” she said, “I think they’re intimidated by you and Merula especially.”   
  
Clara nodded. “So no sign of Ben at all?”   
  
“No,” Chiara said. “Should we be concerned?”   
  
“It’s possible,” she said, “I’ll keep you posted.” She ran back up the stairs to meet Penny and Merula.   
  
“Any sign of him?” she asked as Penny came back down the stairs.   
  
“Not upstairs,” she answered.   
  
“Not on the main level,” added Merula. “Do you think he left?”   
  
“Yes,” Clara said. “He’s been begging to leave for weeks and this must have been the tipping point.”   
  
“Should we go after him?” Penny asked.   
  
“I wouldn’t even know where to start, Pen,” Clara admitted.   
  
“I think the best thing to do right now is just wait to see if he comes back. Maybe he just needed some time to cool off,” Merula stated.   
  
Clara nodded. “But if he doesn’t come back tonight, we go after him, right?”   
  
“Right,” Merula agreed. “Come to the drawing room, I think the game is on the wireless.”   
  
Clara and Penny followed her back to the drawing room and while Merula fiddled with the dials, Penny went over and poured them each a drink.   
  
She passed them out and then sunk into a chair near the fire. Clara sat down next to her.   
  
“Looks like the game is already going,” Merula said behind them, turning it up.   
  
“ _OOO, a close call for Parkin. Puddlemere’s beaters tag teamed that one perfectly,”_ came the commentator’s voice from the wireless. _“It looks like she might need the medic. Oh, never mind, she’s on course again.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Clara flinched. Somehow listening was worse than watching.   
  
_“Excellent chaser play, Puddlemere notches one, bringing the score to 210-60. If Williams grabs the snitch now, this one will end in a draw.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Parkin has the quaffle now and she’s speeding in the opposite direction. She’s going to need to score quickly because at the far edge of the pitch it looks like that chase is on, Williams is in pursuit!”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“And what a spectacular dive by Williams, he’s hot on its tail. But look! Parkin has the quaffle and she’s lined up against Oliver Wood!”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“And Parkin notches another! But did she get it in time? Williams has the snitch!”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Oh it’s pandemonium on the pitch. Parkin notched the game winning goal, but did it come before Williams secured the snitch? That’s the question. The referee is flying to the ground with fourteen athletes in hot pursuit.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Clara and Penny looked at each other. “Have you ever seen something like that?” she asked Penny.   
  
“The last Quidditch World Cup. Krum decided to end the game on his terms, remember?” Penny responded.   
  
“Oh right, we were huddled around the wireless that night too,” Clara remembered. “And then Ben was so inspired to play, he took my broom and fell flat on his face, remember that?” she asked, turning to Merula.   
  
She nodded. “That might have been due to the fact that he drank all of the beer,” she added with a smile.   
_  
_ _“And that’s the game folks, the call on the field stands. Parkin scored the game winner a mere second before the snitch was caught. 220-210 Holyhead takes it,_ ” the commentator concluded. _“This is an instant classic which will no doubt add fuel to the already bitter rivalry between these two teams. I hope everyone has a safe trip home, we’ll see you back here in two weeks’ time as the Harpies tip off against the Wigtown Wanderers.”_ _  
_ _  
_ “Bloody hell, that would have been a game worth watching,” Merula said.   
  
“I wish I could go to next week’s match,” Penny admitted. “I haven’t watched a Wanderers game in years.” She turned to Clara, “Do you think things will ever go back to normal?”   
  
“I don’t know,” she answered, for the first time feeling entirely pessimistic about the entire situation. “It’s hard to think about the future right now.”   
  
They all nodded and then drank in silence for a moment. Then there were footsteps in the hall. They whipped around and saw Chiara standing at the door.   
  
“Any sign of him?” she asked.   
  
“Not yet,” Penny answered solemnly.   
  
Chiara came in and grabbed a glass herself. “How long do we wait?”   
  
Clara shook her head. “I don’t know how much longer I can.”   
  
Merula stood up, “I am going to go do what I can. If the snatchers found him, they would have him in one of two places - the ministry, or at their snatcher camp in the Forest of Dean.”   
  
“What are you going to do?” Clara asked.   
  
“See what I can find,” she answered simply.   
  
There was a small sob from Penny’s chair. They all turned to her in concern. She looked up, “I know he’s been a pain lately, and believe me, I’m really angry at him for doing something reckless, but we need to bring him back.”   
  
Clara squeezed her arm, “He’s one of us, and we’ll bring him home.” She looked up and nodded at Merula to go.   
  
A few more hours passed before Clara finally decided it was time to go search for him.   
  
“Penny I think you should stay here and contact me if he comes home,” she said.   
  
“But Clara, I’m not the one who’s on a wanted list,” she argued.   
  
“Yes, but I can disguise myself,” she reminded her. “What we need is a list of potion ingredients that you get from the Forest of Dean.”   
  
Penny gave her a confused look, “How come?”   
  
“Because you are going to write a supply list on official store parchment and give it to Chiara so we have a reason to be in the forest in the first place. Also Chi, bring your letter of employment,” she added.   
  
“And what will you do?” Penny asked, pulling out her quill and some parchment.   
  
“I will be Chiara’s canine companion who helps her sniff out ingredients,” she explained with a shrug. “It’s not a great plan but it’s the only one I’ve got,” she admitted.   
  
“Chiara, are you okay with this?” Penny asked her.   
  
“Absolutely, let’s do this. Let’s go get Ben,” she said with a determined smile. _  
_   
\---   
  
_October 31st, 1997_ _  
_ _The Forest of Dean_ _  
  
_ _  
_ “Where did Merula say the camp was?” Chiara asked Clara as they stepped out of the door.   
  
“I’m not sure exactly but she mentioned an abandoned viaduct on the eastern edge of the forest,” she responded.   
  
“You don’t mean Lydbrook?” Chiara asked her.   
  
“I’m not sure what that is, but I’m inclined to agree,” she admitted.   
  
“It was torn down in the 60s I believe, but parts of the structures are still there,” Chiara explained, “I think that might be a good place to start.”   
  
“Okay, let’s go,” Clara said. Chiara grabbed onto her arm and then she felt the familiar sensation of being forced through a tight rubber tube. It was over as quick as it had come, however, and then she and Chiara found themselves looking out upon an abandoned village.   
  
“Time for me to transform,” she said, to which Chiara nodded, and then Clara quickly changed into her canine form.   
  
They walked down the hill slowly, Chiara had her list of supplies clutched in one hand, her other hand gripped around her wand. Clara knew that Chi wasn’t the most experienced dueller, but a mission like this was better in pairs.   
  
They made their way through the village when Clara suddenly caught the scent of a campfire. She stopped and then nudged Chiara with her nose and pointed in the direction of the smell. She nodded and they continued in that direction, past the old stone houses and decrepit buildings. They kept walking until she started to hear voices coming from below, in a small pit surrounded by rubble that no doubt had been one of the foundations of the viaduct.   
  
“And then I said to her I did, if you don’t tell me what ‘ouse you was in, I’ll bloody you up so bad you won’t even remember yer own name!” came a slimy voice. Raucous laughter followed.   
  
“So what did the bleedin’ girl say?” asked another voice.   
  
“Well she said she was in Slytherin didn’t she. That’s what they always say cause they don’t think we have their names in this here book,” he responded. “Said she was Pansy Parkinson, but I know ol’ Parkinson senior and let me tell you, he woulda beat the girl for even pretending.”   
  
“Who was she really, Scabior?” they asked him again.   
  
“Doesn’t matter now does it? Ministry blokes came and took her, I made a profit on ‘er head!” the wizard named Scabior answered. The group laughed again.   
  
Clara sniffed around, she couldn’t catch Ben’s scent at all. They sank deeper into the brush so that they could hear more clearly.   
  
“Where to next?” asked a female snatcher.   
  
“We ‘ave to wait for ol’ Greyback to give us orders. He told us to wait here until he had a lead. I think he’s out there hunting for some prey,” he said gleefully.   
  
At the mention of Greyback’s name, she felt Chiara stiffen beside her. She placed a paw on her foot, trying to hold her steady. They couldn’t make any noise, especially now, knowing he was out in the forest.   
  
“I know the Dark Lord wants the Potter boy, but Greyback’s got his heart set on the mudblood Granger,” another snatcher cackled.   
  
“How much d’you reckon we can get for the lot of them?” asked the female snatcher.   
  
“We’d be rich beyond our years, I reckon,” answered Scabior. Suddenly there was a loud crack coming from behind the snatcher camp. A dark, massive figure emerged from the brush.   
  
“Dinner’s on me this time,” snarled Greyback, tossing a mangled deer carcass on the forest floor.   
  
“Any mudbloods or blood traitors tonight?” Scabior asked him.   
  
“Nothing tonight. Took a batch up to the Ministry this morning but haven’t seen any since,” he growled. “They’re sending out more raids this week, so don’t worry, you’ll make your money.”   
  
Clara took a step back and nudged Chiara with her nose. Chiara nodded and they retreated deeper into the trees. Clara quickly transformed and then grabbed her arm, disapparating on the spot.   
  
\---   
  
_November 8th, 1997_ _  
_ _Snyde Manor_   
  
  
Chiara and Clara returned to Snyde Manor after a ninth consecutive trip into the Forest of Dean. There was still no sign of Ben and they hadn’t heard any news from Merula either. Clara was trying to stay positive but it was proving difficult. The reality was that Ben was either taken by the Death Eaters for questioning or he was safe, but either way they had no idea where Ben could be.   
  
That night, they returned and found Penny sitting in the kitchen with books piled around her.   
  
“Alright, Penny?” Clara said, sinking into the chair beside her. Chiara had returned to the basement to check on James and Davie.   
  
She shook her head. “No, I’m not alright,” she answered, “but there’s no sense sitting around and doing nothing. Here,” she said, pushing a book towards her. “This is the potion Jacob was asking about.” 

Clara read it, “ _The Mospus Potion presumably gives one Seer-like power and/or, the ability to manipulate objects telekinetically._ But why would he need this?” she asked.  
  
“Search me,” she said. “I asked him why he needed but he dodged the question.”   
  
“It doesn’t make any sense. He was much more powerful legilimens than I am,” she added. “What reason could Jacob have had to brew a Mospus potion?”   
  
Just then they heard a commotion in the hallway. They jumped up and ran to see what all the fuss was about.   
  
“It’s just me,” came Merula’s voice, “and I have news.” They heard her footsteps echo down the hall as she joined them in the kitchen.   
  
“Merula, what’s going on?” Penny asked.   
  
“First” she said, sitting down across from them, “there’s no sign of Ben. I went with Peterson to the Ministry under the pretense of checking my parents' will and checked the records. Ben hasn’t been taken in.”   
  
“And you’re sure those records are accurate?” Clara asked her.   
  
“Positive. Remember, Ben is on a list of Undesirables. If they had him, they would make damn sure everyone knew about it,” she said, "and they'd be asking me to verify his answers about you."   
  
“How come it took you so long to get back to us?” Penny asked, concerned.   
  
“If I left quickly, they would have been suspicious. Besides, something else happened and I had to stay,” she answered.   
  
“What happened?” Clara asked.   
  
“I saw Professor, or should I say, Headmaster Snape,” she said.   
  
Penny and Clara looked at each other and then back at Merula, “Wow. That is news,” Clara said. “Did he suspect anything?”   
  
“Would have been hard to suspect anything when he didn’t speak to me,” she admitted. “He’s never been to a meeting of, well, lower level Death Eaters so to speak. He had some words with Yaxley and then was off once more.”   
  
“Did you catch anything that he had to say?” Penny asked her.   
  
“He went at him about the attack at Wimbourne and how it was a foolish endeav. He told him that Bagman is on the lam and that we not only wasted our time but brought attention to it, which has caused many people to question the new regime,” she said.   
  
“It’s almost like it worked in our favour,” Clara commented.   
  
Merula laughed, “I know, their idiocy knows no bounds.”   
  
“So, what are they trying to do next?” Penny asked her.   
  
“They won’t tell me,” she said and then added, “believe me, I would tell you if I knew.”   
  
Clara sighed. “So no sign of Ben, I’m a target when I walk out the door, and I still have no idea if we're even helping anyone.”   
  
Merula placed her hand on Clara’s arm. “You already saved the lives of two young wizards who would have been killed or forced to do Greyback’s bidding. Not to mention the countless spectators you saved at that game. And you,” she added, turning to Penny, “are helping those boys even though I know it was a tough decision for you.”   
  
Penny shrugged, “Easiest decision I’ve had to make when I really think about it.”   
  
It was a rare moment of clarity and genuine appreciation for each other. Clara looked back down at the book in front of her and suddenly she realized that Merula might know why Jacob was looking for a telekinetic potion.   
  
“Merula,” she began, “do you have any idea why Jacob would have been searching for this potion?” She pushed the book towards her and pointed at the name of the potion.   
  
“A Mospus Potion?” she asked, her brow furrowed. “I’ve never heard of it before.” She read the description, “But why would he need this? He was a legilimens,” she stated, looking up at Clara.   
  
“That’s what we both thought,” Clara confirmed.   
  
“What brought this on?” Merula questioned.   
  
“It was about a month after Clara left. He came into the shop and told me that if anything happened to him that I needed to take care of Clara and then he asked me about this potion,” she explained, pointing to the book, “and if I had any dealings with foreign wizards.”   
  
“About a month after,” Merula muttered, “so May or June?” she asked.   
  
“Yes, exactly,” Penny said.   
  
“Foreign wizards? Did he specify what countries?” she pressed.   
  
Penny shook her head, “No I don’t think so.” But then her eyes lit up. “Wait, yes he did!” she exclaimed. “He specifically asked if I had any dealings with Scandinavian wizards.”   
  
Clara stared at her, “Scandinavian wizards?”   
  
“Yes,” Penny answered, “I remember now. He was asking if I had heard from you and I said yes, I had just received a letter from you that day and that you were settling in Oslo. That was one of the last ones I received,” she added.   
  
Clara took a moment to think, “Penny,” she said slowly, “I sent you more letters. I remember I sent you letters up until Christmas that year.”   
  
Penny stared at her, “I never received any.”   
  
They all looked at each other. Finally Clara said, “Someone was intercepting my letters." She turned to Merula, "When did you stop getting them from me?"  
  
"Around July," she answered.  
  
"So someone was spying on me, and it’s likely part of the reason my brother died," she concluded.   
  
“Clara, you don’t know that,” Penny said.   
  
“We don’t know anything yet,” Merula added. “For all we know, they might not be connected at all.”   
  
“You heard what Penny said,” she reminded her. She got up and walked to the doorway, “I need some air.”   
  
“Clara, wait,” Penny called after her, but Clara didn’t stop. She felt a wave of nausea crash over her and she quickly walked all the way to the back door and whipped it open. She barely made it to the step before she involuntarily emptied the contents of her stomach. She held onto the railing to keep herself from falling over and then eventually let herself slide to the ground. She rested her head against the door and tried to steady her breathing.   
  
The door opened and Merula stepped out. She waved her wand to presumably clean up the mess and then sat down beside her.  
  
They didn't speak for a moment and then Merula said, "There's something I need to do, but when I come back, we will figure this out."  
  
Clara looked up at her, "What do you mean?"  
  
"I'll tell you when I get back," she reassured her and then disapparated with a POP.  
  
After a few minutes she got up and went back inside. She found Penny sitting alone in the drawing room and sat down beside her.  
  
"Feeling better?" she asked as Clara sunk into the chair.  
  
"Not particularly, but at least I'm not spewing my guts out," she admitted.  
  
"You should go," Penny said.  
  
"Go where?" Clara asked genuinely confused.  
  
Penny gave her a look. "The only place you want to be right now."  
  
Clara sighed, "It's too dangerous."  
  
Penny reached into her bag and handed her a small vial of silvery liquid. "Take this. Drink half before you disapparate. Make sure you land close by because you'll have about ten minutes before the effects wear off," she said, "and then drink the other half before you come home."  
  
"Invisibility potion?" she asked.  
  
"Precisely," Penny confirmed. "Now go, before I regain my nerve and tell you not to."  
  
"Are you okay here?" she asked.  
  
"Of course," she said. "Chiara and the boys will keep me company."  
  
"Contact me the old way if he comes home," Clara said and gave her arm a squeeze.  
  
She walked back down the hall to the back door and stepped onto the stoop. She uncorked the vial and drank half of the potion, which was about as bubbly as a muggle soda, and then she turned on her heel and disapparated out of sight.  
  
\--- 


	34. Shoot for the Skye

**CHAPTER 34:** **Shoot for the Skye**  
  
 _October 31st, 1997_ _  
_ _Holyhead, Wales_ _  
  
_ _  
_The sun was setting on the pitch as an exciting game was unfolding between the Holyhead Harpies and their bitter rivals, Puddlemere United. Holyhead had the edge up front, with a star chaser, but United’s seeker Benjy Williams was one of the best to play the game. Skye was having another phenomenal game, but as the end drew nearer, nothing was certain. _  
_ _  
_ _“GOAL! Parkin notches another one as Holyhead pulls ahead even further. The score now stands at 210-50,”_ the commentator called out above the roar of the crowd.   
  
There was a whistle and the referee signalled that Puddlemere was taking a timeout.   
  
Holyhead players huddled around Gwenog for a quick drink of water and a debrief. “Alright all of you, we’re playing well out there. We’re sticking to the game plan but Benjy Williams hasn’t made a move yet. He can strike at any moment. Chasers, we need to keep the pressure on. It looks like they’ll be bringing on their reserve keeper so test him quickly.”   
  
At the sound of the referee’s whistle, they nodded and took off to rejoin the action.   
  
_“There’s a changing of the guard as Puddlemere looks to the bench to shore up their defense. They’ve brought on young Oliver Wood to hopefully stop the bleeding,”_ the commentator announced.   
  
Puddlemere was on the move, their chasers attacking in unison, the quaffle being tossed side to side. Skye anticipated the toss and tried to make a move on the quaffle, but she barely grazed the red ball when a timely bludger impeded her.   
  
_“OOO, a close call for Parkin. Puddlemere’s beaters tag teamed that one perfectly,”_ came the commentator’s voice. _“It looks like she might need the medic. Oh, never mind, she’s on course again.”_  
  
Skye’s grimaced as she righted her broom and sped off in the direction of the chasers who were still weaving their way towards the goal. They launched a shot at the hoops which hit the target, eliciting a groan from the crowd.   
  
_“Puddlemere notches one, bringing the score to 210-60. If Williams grabs the snitch now, this one will end in a draw.”_  
  
Skye grabbed the quaffle and sped forward, dodging a sloppy bludger. She drew two chasers and then dropped a pass back to her teammate who was soaring behind her. She then dove trying to slip under the defender and managed to avoid another bludger aimed at her head.   
  
_“- at the far edge of the pitch it looks like that chase is on, Williams is in pursuit!”_  
  
She sped under the defender and reached out her arms to catch the quaffle that her teammate had placed perfectly. She heard the crowd gasp as the ball fell into her hands but she could only focus on the task at hand.   
  
_“A spectacular dive by Williams, he’s hot on its tail.”_   
  
She reached back and tossed the quaffle through Wood’s outstretched arms, and watched it sail through the hoop.   
_  
__“And Parkin notches another! But did she get it in time?”_ the commentator yelled, trying to be heard over the roaring crowd.   
  
Skye whipped around and saw Benjy Williams clutching the snitch in his fist, pumping it up and down. _  
_  
_“Oh it’s pandemonium on the pitch. Parkin notched the game winning goal, but did it come before Williams secured the snitch? That’s the question. The referee is flying to the ground with fourteen athletes in hot pursuit.”_  
  
Gwenog was on the ground yelling at the referee while Benji Williams brandished his close fists, the tiny golden wings peeking out from either side.   
  
“That was a good goal, it sailed through before the whistle,” Gwenog argued.   
  
“The evidence is right here, ma’am,” Williams exclaimed. “I have the snitch right here.”   
  
Finally the referee had enough. “Both of you. Take a hundred paces back to your benches and I will sort out this mess. The call on the field is that the goal was indeed good, but I need to examine the snitch. If either of you take a step towards me, I will have you both taken by the Hit Wizards, understood?” she said, taking the snitch from Benjy.   
  
Both teams walked begrudgingly from the centre of the field, back to their benches. Gwenog paced back and forth, tossing out curse words every three paces. It was no secret that she didn’t like Benjy Williams or Puddlemere United for that matter. It was only a matter of time before a brawl broke out between the two teams.   
  
Finally the referee returned and signalled for the captains. Skye watched from the bench as Gwenog and Benjy walked forward to meet her. She said something, the captains shook hands (likely by force), and then she pointed towards Holyhead’s bench, which caused the crowd to erupt.   
  
_“And that’s the game folks, the call on the field stands. Parkin scored the game winner a mere second before the snitch was caught. 220-210 Holyhead takes it,_ ” the commentator concluded. _“This is an instant classic which will no doubt add fuel to the already bitter rivalry between these two teams. I hope everyone has a safe trip home, we’ll see you back here in two weeks’ time as the Harpies tip off against the Wigtown Wanderers.”_ _  
_ _  
_Gwenog came back to the huddle and grabbed her by the robes, “You brilliant bastard, what a bloody amazing goal,” she grinned ear to ear. “Made my entire year watching Williams throw a tantrum.”  
  
She turned back to the team and said, “Go celebrate you lot! You deserve it. We’ve got a big game against Tutshill this weekend so take tomorrow off and we’ll get back to work on Monday!”   
  
The team cheered and they went off to the changing room. Skye showered quickly and locked up her broom before heading out to greet the fans. Much to her dismay, the person most eager to see that evening was possibly Skye's least favourite person in the entire world.   
  
“Rita Skeeter,” she said, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”   
  
“Oh you flatter me Skye Parkin, but you’re a terrible liar,” Rita said.   
  
“You’re good enough at it for the both of us,” Skye said dryly.   
  
Rita laughed, a horribly shrill one at that, and pulled out her notebook. “Let’s cut to the chase, I want an exclusive interview with you. I want to tell your story, your way. My rabid readers are dying to know all of the sordid details,” she practically sang.   
  
“I haven’t the faintest idea as to what you’re talking about, Ms. Skeeter,” she answered coolly. “And if you recall, you tried this with me before. What was the title of the last one?”   
  
“ _Shoot for the Skye,_ ” she answered with a devilish grin, “an exclusive how-to for my young readers on how to have a flourishing work-life balance. And for your information, it was a best seller,” she added much to Skye’s displeasure.   
  
“And complete shite,” Skye reminded her.   
  
“Oh, don’t be so coy with me. While the stories may have been, well, let’s say embellished, you have to admit, it makes for a good read,” she purred.   
  
“Aye, if you’re into fiction,” Skye said. “I won’t do the interview, Ms. Skeeter, I’ve told you that numerous times.”   
  
“Oh come on, a young woman like you, a professional athlete for that matter, must have so many stories to tell and I think I should be the one to share them with my readers,” she said, twirling her quill in her fingers. "Who are you dating? How many lovers have you left scorned? Your moves can't be limited to the quidditch pitch. No, you're far too... strong, for that."  
  
Was strong meant to be a compliment or an insult, Skye wondered, but decided not to ask. “Like I said, I’m not interested in a tell-all interview,” she stated.   
  
“Well that’s unfortunate,” Rita said, changing her tone, “but if a story comes out, wouldn’t you rather be in control of it?”   
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it sounds as if you are threatening me,” Skye said, approaching her. "And I don't take kindly to being threatened."  
  
“Ah, yes. I heard about your response to the threat in Wimbourne," Rita said, causing Skye to recoil from her. "Or rather, who may have responded for you," she added.  
  
"I think we're done here," Skye said firmly, trying to escape the situation.  
  
"Oh, you athletes, always so defensive,” she purred, “I’m just here for a story, and I usually get what I want.” She gave her a final glance and then walked away.   
  
Skye watched her walk away, wanting nothing more than to curse, but fortunately had enough sense to to keep her wand stowed. She was about to leave herself when she heard a voice behind her say, “I wouldn’t put too much stock in her words, kid. She’s a ripe old hag."   
  
Skye whipped around and saw Holyhead's other star chaser, Wilda Griffiths, standing there with a smile plastered to her face. “Wilda!” she said, “You’re back!”   
  
Her teammate smiled, “Finally cleared to go again. Will be ready for Tutshill if Gwenog let’s me play.”   
  
“She’s dying to have you back,” said Skye, “we could have blown Puddlemere out by triple digits if we had you in the lineup.”  
  
“You’re doing just fine by the looks of it, kid,” she said, patting her on the back. “But it will be nice to smack the champs around next week. I’ll see ya Monday, Parkin.”   
  
Skye felt such relief knowing Wilda was back in action. She was an excellent chaser and great teammate at that. She didn’t care who was the one scoring the goals, as long as they were going in the hoops. And Tutshill was the toughest team in the league, so they were going to need all the help they could get this week.   
  
She walked back to her place, Rita Skeeter’s words turning over in her head. She knew something about her, that much was clear. She wondered what it could be, but nothing came to mind immediately. Her sexuality was the only scandal that could really ruin her in the eyes of the fans, but she would deny it, at least until her career was over, and Rita knew that. She had tried to do that in the past, to many prominent players, so it wouldn’t be the first baseless rumour she’s ever tried to peddle. Although, in her case it wasn’t so baseless.   
  
Then it hit her. She was certainly talking about Clara? A lot of people would have seen what happened with Greyback, but was Rita Skeeter one of them? Or did someone tell her what happened? Five years of secrecy, but Clara running back to save her from a Death Eater attack while they weren’t even dating, could that be the detail that finally breaks the story? And if so, would that put her in danger?   
  
She shook herself out of it. No, there’s no way she could have seen what happened on the stairs, and she would just have to deny it if she did. She stopped herself again. _Why are you so scared of this?_ She asked herself, _this was the reason why she left you, and five years later, you haven’t changed._  
  
Skye made her way home, trying to forget about Rita Skeeter’s threat, but as the days passed that week, she found herself combing through the Prophet every single day, looking for any shred of it. After five days, there still wasn’t a story so she finally let herself relax. However, like most things in her life these days, the moment she relaxed, that’s when the worst things seemed to happen.  
  
The day before they were supposed to leave for Tutshill she was packing her game day robes in her bag and preparing for their practice that evening. She was just about to put her gloves in her bag when there was a frantic rapping at her door.   
  
“Who’s there?” she called out.   
  
“It’s me, Rath.”   
  
“Who did you injure with an intentional bludger in your sixth year?”   
  
“You, but it was NOT intentional,” she yelled.   
  
Skye laughed and opened the door. “What’s got you up this early?” she asked, “Wait, did I miss a run?”  
  
“No, something much worse,” she said storming in. “Have you read the paper yet?”   
  
“No?” Skye answered, “I literally just got up and started packing.”   
  
Rath slammed the paper down, “Fucking Rita Skeeter.”   
  
Skye’s heart dropped. She picked up the paper and saw the headline which read:   
  
**_Skye’s the Limit for Romance: Parkin’s Love Triangle Revealed in Tomorrow’s Edition_** _  
_ _  
_“That bitch,” she said. “I should have just talked to her. I knew she was going to retaliate.”  
  
“She’s just trying to get under your skin,” Rath said. “What would she even have?”   
  
“Depends who she managed to get information from,” Skye said. “It could be about school, or now. Either way, I’m fucked.”   
  
“It won’t be that bad, will it?” Rath asked, “I mean you can easily deny it.”   
  
Skye shook her head, “Not if she was at the stadium in Wimbourne.”   
  
Rath looked at her, “Clara saved a bunch of spectators though, is she dating all of them as well?” Rath said, trying to make a joke.   
  
“Yes well, she didn’t kiss all of them, did she?” Skye admitted.   
  
Rath stared at her with a look of pure joy, “You little minx; you told me nothing happened! Now you have to tell me everything,” she beamed.   
  
Skye rolled her eyes but then filled her in on the actual truth of what happened that day.   
  
“So you think Skeeter could have been there?” Rath asked.   
  
“Possibly,” she shrugged, “she’s slippery and has an uncanny ability of being everywhere I am. Do you remember the last article she wrote about me?” she asked Rath.   
  
“Oh yes, what was the title? _Shoot for the Skye_?” she teased.   
  
Skye laughed, “Yes, something ridiculous like that.”   
  
Rath sighed. “Whatever happens, I’ll keep your secret, Parkin. We just need to get in and out with a win tomorrow and deal with whatever happens next.”   
  
Skye nodded, “Thank you, Rath.”   
  
\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucking love puns. That's it. That's the note.


	35. The Beetle and the Bard

**CHAPTER 35: The Beetle and the Bard**   
  
_November 8th, 1997_ _  
_ _Holyhead, Wales_   
  
  
On the morning of the Tutshill game, Skye made the decision to not even glance at the Prophet. If her teammates asked about it, she would say she hadn’t read it and would prefer not to. She knew that if it was bad, the fans would have their say, but she’d dealt with heckling for the past seven years, so this wouldn’t be any different.   
  
Fortunately, the game was an early one, which meant that not many people would have read the Prophet yet. So when Skye arrived back at Holyhead stadium, she was feeling remarkably less bad than she thought she would, despite the match not going in their favour. It was a tough match against the Tornadoes; they lost 230-190 and despite their best efforts scoring the quaffle, their lack of talent at seeker was becoming more and more obvious.   
  
“We need the Weasley girl,” Gwenog repeated to her after the game. “But I don’t think we can even wait that long. We’re excellent defensively and have now two star chasers, but we run out of time in matches because our seeker doesn’t know what they’re doing.”   
  
Skye nodded in agreement, but how could they find someone new now? They were a quarter of the way through a season that may not even finish. Half of the athletes barely wanted to suit up, let alone move to a new city at this point. For now, they were stuck with what they had and it was up to Skye to try and fix it.   
  
After she locked up her broom at the facilities, she walked back up the path to the downtown core. She thought a drink would be nice, but the idea of going to the pub wasn’t exactly what she needed right now; besides, Rita Skeeter was probably lurking around there again.   
  
She decided instead to go home and have a drink by herself and then finally read the blasted article. They played Wigtown next weekend, and she would need all the rest she could get to handle playing her family’s team. She never talked about it with anyone, but Wigtown games were her least favourite and somehow they were worse now that her father had retired. Her parents would come, as Ethan Parkin was a part owner of the team, and if the rumours have it, still acting as their manager. Her parents coming to Holyhead also meant that she would have to have dinner with them, during which her father would grill her about her performance and her mother would interrogate her about her personal life. Even the thought of it made her anxious.   
  
She made it back to her house and opened the door, taking care not to tread mud on the floor. The weather had begun to turn and while snow was on its way, Holyhead was currently experiencing an incredibly cold week of rain. She shook off her cloak and hung it up on the hook beside the door and then stripped off her clothes and hopped in a hot shower. The only thing better, in her opinion, than a hot shower after a cold, rainy match was a hot shower after securing a win.   
  
She turned the water off and grabbed a clean towel from the shelf in the bathroom. She waved her wand quickly to heat the towel up, using another useful charm her mother taught her. She toweled herself off and then headed into the bedroom to put on some comfortable clothes before moving to the living room to light the fire in the grate. Satisfied, she poured herself a drink and then grabbed a packet of crisps from the cupboard - her guilty pleasure.   
  
And then she grabbed the paper and started to read.  
  
  
 **_Skye’s the Limit for Romance: Parkin’s Love Triangle Revealed_ ** **_  
_** **_By Rita Skeeter_ ** **_  
_** _  
_ _Skye Parkin may be best known for stealing quaffles but did you know she’s quite adept at stealing hearts too?_ _  
_ _  
_ _The notably private chaser has apparently been so for good reason since her private life is so active, playing for both teams as it were._ _  
_ _  
_ _She is rumoured to have been in an on and off relationship with current Holyhead medi-witch Amanda McLaggen for the past two seasons, a relationship that may or may not have begun when the two were school girls at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Close friends of the pair have mentioned to this author that the two of them spend a lot of time in the clinic, even when Parkin’s injuries have been cleared._ _  
_ _  
_ _McLaggen declined to comment and asked this reporter to “mind her own business” which we all know is not my strong suit. Skye Parkin was reportedly an attendee at the wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour this summer, as the date of the aforementioned McLaggen. Although, she did leave early, and the rumours are that she ran into an old flame at the wedding which caused quite the commotion._ _  
_ _  
_ “There’s no way she could have seen that?” Skye questioned out loud. _  
_ _  
_ _Apparently all is not well in Wales, however, as Parkin is allegedly also returning to her Scottish roots. It is rumoured that she is currently dating Puddlemere United’s young keeper Oliver Wood, who last season was voted as the league’s most eligible bachelor, by my wonderful readers._ _  
_ _  
_ “What on earth?” Skye said out loud. _  
_ _  
_ _Following a training session with the Scottish National team, the pair were seen giggling and carrying on and apparently met up at a secret location that evening._ _  
_ _  
_ Skye couldn’t help but laugh at that, “Oliver Wood? Giggling?”   
  
_Parkin scored a controversial goal in the last second in their match against Puddlemere, securing a win for the Harpies. It is worth noting that the goal was scored against her aforementioned beau. No word yet on how Benjy Williams will react to the possibility that his up and coming keeper may have let a goal slide in the name of love._ _  
_ _  
_ _This reporter has also heard that Skye Parkin dated a teammate during her time at Hogwarts. Was it possible that she was entangled with Charlie Weasley? They both left Hogwarts after their sixth year of school, could it have been on a secret trip of love? Or was Skye Parkin’s great school love none other than famed curse-breaker, Clara O’Connor, who disappeared for two years and is now currently on the Ministry's most wanted list.  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _Me, Myself and I, want to know._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ Skye sighed and put the paper down on the table. She didn’t have anything concrete, so she could deny it all and no one would be hurt by it. Well, maybe Amanda, but she would understand. And Clara and her were barely mentioned, which if she was being truly honest, was the only thing she was worried about. She picked up her bag of crisps and sank into the sofa. But just when she was getting comfortable, she heard a knock at the door. _Why now?_ she asked herself, _just when I was getting settled._ She got up and approached the door slowly.   
  
“Who’s there,” she asked. There was no answer, but a piece of paper slid under the door. She picked it up and turned it over to see a muddy paw print pressed on the back of the paper. Her heart jumped. She opened the door, but when she peered out, no one was there. “What on earth?” she asked out loud.   
  
“Shh,” came a whisper from the corner of the landing, “it’s me, you just can’t see me.”   
  
All of a sudden she felt something poke her arm. “What was that?” she asked, alarmed.   
  
“It’s me, let me in and I’ll explain,” Clara whispered again.   
  
“Okay…” she said and opened the door wider. Sure enough, she felt something brush past her. She closed the door behind her and went to sit at the kitchen table. “What is going on?”   
  
“I took an invisibility potion, Penny made it and told me I would have about ten minutes,” Clara explained. “But it’s been approximately seven and I’m not sure what happens next.”   
  
“This is weird,” Skye said, though she was amused.   
  
“Yes, in theory it was a good plan, but I’m not sure we accounted for this,” Clara laughed.   
  
They both sat there for a moment and Skye was starting to feel very exposed. Finally, she started to see a disturbance in the direction of where Clara seemed to be. “Wait, I think I’m starting to see you,” Skye said.   
  
“Oh, really?” Clara answered. “I’m moving my arms, can you see them?”   
  
“Yes you’re a bit blurry but you’re starting to form,” Skye replied, this time she couldn’t contain her laughter.   
  
Clara laughed too as she started to become more and more visible, until finally, Clara O’Connor was standing in her kitchen.   
  
“There,” she said, examining her own hands. “I am solid once more,” she added with a smile.   
  
Skye smiled back and then pushed a second glass of whiskey to her. “For your trouble.”   
  
“You read my mind,” she said, grabbing the glass. “How was the game?”   
  
“Not good, we’re so weak at the seeker position,” Skye answered, “we were lucky we won the Puddlemere game last week, but we were not so lucky this time around. Couldn’t get a big enough lead to secure it.”   
  
“I listened to the game last week,” Clara said, looking at her glass, “and it was hard not to just go again.”   
  
“You can’t do that anymore,” Skye said seriously, “even this is more dangerous than you think.”   
  
“I know,” said Clara, as she took another drink and eyed her closely. “But I needed to get out of there.”   
  
Skye’s brow furrowed, “Why? What happened?”   
  
“First of all, Ben’s missing. He’s been gone for a week and we have no idea where he could be,” she answered.   
  
Skye stared at her, “Are you serious?”   
  
Clara nodded. “Chiara and I even tried to track him down but after a week of spying on snatchers, we still can’t find him. And Merula,” she added, “hasn’t been able to get anything from her contacts.”   
  
Skye took a sip, covering up the awkwardness she felt at the mention of Merula’s name. “I hope he comes back soon. Is there anything I can do?”   
  
Clara shook her head, “No, but thank you. If you do hear anything, please send a letter to Chiara, not me.”   
  
Skye cocked her head to the side, “Wouldn’t it be the same place?”   
  
“Yes, but that’s the other thing,” Clara answered, “I have reason to believe someone has been spying on me and taking some of my letters.”   
  
Skye laughed, “Yes, I believe I’m the one that told you that, but it was just the one letter.”   
  
Clara shook her head again, “No, Skye, I mean someone was spying on me while I was in Norway, and it’s likely connected to my brother’s death.”   
  
Skye didn’t know how to respond. “I, I mean, how do you? How do you know?”   
  
Then all of a sudden, Clara was on her feet. “I’m so sorry. I am just realizing how selfish this was. I shouldn’t have come here to unload all of this on you,” she said apologetically.   
  
Skye shook her head, “No, no, I’m glad you’re here. It’s just a lot to take in.”   
  
“No, really, I should have come. You were right, it’s too dangerous,” she turned to leave but Skye caught her arm.   
  
“Please, Clara,” she said softly, “don’t go.” She let her hand longer on Clara’s arm for a moment, pleading silently for her to stay. She felt her soften at her touch and when she turned back she saw tears forming in her eyes. Skye wanted nothing more than to wipe the tear off of her cheek, but checked her impulses and instead, gave her a small smile and then asked her to tell her what was happening.   
  
“It was something Penny said the other day. About a month after I left my brother came into the shop asking for potion ingredients and whether or not there had been any foreign, particularly Scandinavian wizards in the shop of late. And then he asked if she had heard from me recently, which she had, and for her to take care of me if anything happened to him,” she said.   
  
“It sounds like he was in danger and he knew it,” Skye answered.   
  
“Exactly,” Clara replied, “but then Penny said that that letter she received from me that summer was the last one she got, even though I kept writing to her until Christmas that year.”   
  
“Was it just your letters with Penny?” she asked.   
  
Clara shook her head, “Merula too,” she answered. “I don’t know about Ben, but my guess would be the same. And the only other person I wrote to regularly was you,” she told her.   
  
Skye nodded along with her, taking it all in. “Your parents?”   
  
Clara laughed at that, “Not likely,” she said.   
  
Skye looked at her sadly. She had forgotten just how bad it was with Clara and her parents. Thinking about it made her thankful for her own. Finally she said, “I know this may not be what you want to hear, but you have no way of knowing that these occurrences are connected. There could be many reasons why your letters were taken - maybe your department at Gringotts had its reasons, maybe they’re not involved. And while I’m inclined to believe you because you’re usually right, this could be the one time you’re wrong. There’s no way to know right now.”   
  
Clara stayed silent, presumably ruminating on what Skye had said, but then again, Skye could never be sure what Clara was thinking. Eventually Clara sat down and surprisingly said, “You’re right. It’s possible that I overreacted.” She turned to face her, “I think maybe I just needed to hear you say it.”   
  
Skye grabbed the bottle sitting on the kitchen table and she poured Clara another drink.   
  
“Thank you,” Clara said.   
  
Skye nodded and turned back to her own glass. She was suddenly aware of what she was wearing, “I’m sorry,” she said, “I must look like I’m in a state. I had only just gotten home.”   
  
Clara shook her head and looked at her seriously, “No, Skye, you look perfect.”   
  
Skye blushed and turned back to her drink. She felt a warm sensation overcoming her and knew she was in trouble. If Clara only knew what was running through her mind in that moment…   
  
“It’s getting late,” Clara said suddenly, shaking Skye out of her daydream. “I don’t want to impose any longer.”   
  
Skye looked over, “No, don’t go yet,” she said.   
  
“Are you sure?” asked Clara.   
  
“Yes,” she answered, “when’s the last time you just, you know, relaxed for a moment?”   
  
Clara looked at her for a moment and then answered dryly, “probably, 1990.”   
  
Skye stared at her and then burst out laughing. “I spent a lot of time with you in 1990,” she countered, “and you didn’t know how to relax even then.”   
  
“Hey, there had to be a few times,” Clara protested, “I can think of a couple at least,” she added. Skye couldn’t help but notice the flush creeping up Clara’s neck. Was it the whiskey, or was Clara insinuating something? “Wow, I have to admit I am quite warm,” Clara declared. “Mind if I take off my coat?”   
  
“Of course,” Skye said, “Here, let me take it.” She reached out her hand and Clara placed the coat in it, but then Skye froze; because Clara was only wearing a short sleeved shirt, she saw the wound on her shoulder.   
  
“It looks worse than it is,” Clara said, seeing the look on her face. “I mean, I won’t lie about the pain, but they patched me up, and it’s just healing slowly.”   
  
Skye hung up her coat and then walked back to the table. She stood about an arm’s length away to regain some semblance of composure, and leaned up against it. “I’m sorry it happened,” she said. “Part of me feels responsible.”   
  
Clara grabbed her hand, sending a shock wave through her entire body. “I’m the one who tried to apparate while I was still running,” she confessed with a small grin, “it’s completely my fault.”   
  
Skye squeezed her hand lightly in response. “I guess I can’t be too mad that you were there, considering you saved my life,” Skye admitted. She felt herself getting closer to Clara, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop.   
  
“Should we talk about it?” Clara said, her voice suddenly a whisper. “What happened on the stairs that day?”   
  
“I don’t want to talk anymore, Clara,” Skye said. She could barely hear her over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.   
  
“Should I go?” Clara asked, looking up at her from her seat. Her left hand was still cupped around Skye’s, but her right hand had found its way to Skye’s waist. She couldn’t take it anymore, being this close to Clara. It was compulsive, it was visceral, and she only had one thought in that moment.   
  
Skye shook her head and then reached out to sweep the hair out of Clara’s eye, “No, don’t you dare go,” she said.   
  
“Thank Merlin,” Clara said, and then she was on her feet kissing Skye with an unbridled passion that Skye had never felt before. Clara's hands were in her hair and she pinned Skye against the table. Skye pulled her into her own body trying to bring Clara as close as she could. Clara’s hands ran down her sides to her waist and she felt Clara’s fingertips playing with the hem of he shit before sliding under. She gasped at the contact of Clara’s cold hands on her warm skin, quickly moving up her body. Clara grinned into her mouth when she realized that Skye wasn’t wearing anything under her shirt. Her hands traveled back up her sides but Skye felt that she needed more contact. 

She pushed Clara away for a moment, pulled her shirt over her head and then did the same to Clara. She took her in; she had so many new scars and bruises, things Skye had never seen before. She realized she must look the same because Clara was tracing the bruises on her ribs with her finger tips.   
  
“You’re a mess,” Clara said breathlessly.   
  
“And you still have too many clothes on,” Skye answered, trying to steady her breath .  
  
Clara laughed and immediately pulled her in again. Her lips landed on her neck, kissing her there and then running her tongue along her jawline, and then finding its way to her ear lobe. The sound of Clara’s breath in her ear was enough to do her in, but she still needed more.   
  
Clara knew it too, she lightly bit her ear, causing Skye’s knees to buckle slightly. Her mouth started to move down Skye’s body, to her chest, planting soft, slow kisses on one breast then the other. Her hands moved to Skye’s waist once more as her lips trailed down her stomach and landed above the waistband of her shorts. Clara paused, causing Skye to open her eyes and look down at Clara who was looking up at her too.   
  
Skye reached down and cupped her chin, pulling her back up to eye level. She ran her nails through Clara’s hair and watched Clara’s eyes close as she crumbled slightly. She knew her, she knew what made her weak and she knew what she wanted. She kissed her softly at first, one hand still in her hair, the other moved up to the clasp of her bra.   
  
“Why are you still wearing this?” she asked, brushing her lips along Clara’s.   
  
“I don’t know, it’s archaic, you should get rid of it,” Clara murmured back, gripping Skye’s waist with her own hands.   
  
Skye undid it and then pushed the straps off of her shoulders letting it fall to the floor. She kissed Clara deeper than before and pulled Clara closer, feeling her bare chest pressed up against her own. She couldn’t take it anymore; she needed her, now. She slid her hands down to the waistband of Clara’s jeans and then grabbed it, pulling her even closer. Clara moaned into her mouth, telling Skye everything she needed to know. She undid the button and then slowly slid her pants over her hips. She pushed them down past her knees and then bent down to pull them off of her. She planted kisses on shins, her knees, her inner thighs, as she moved back up to her.   
  
Clara’s hands her in her hair now, pulling her back up to her mouth. She kissed her deeply, her tongue begging for permission, which Skye granted. She slid her hands down Clara’s sides, causing her to shudder and lean deeper into Skye who was pinned against the table once more. She slipped one hand under the hem of her completely impractical lace undergarment, and her fingers reached down to touch her.   
  
Clara gasped and pressed herself into her fingers. “I need you,” Clara whispered in her ear, “I need you now, Skye.”   
  
Skye’s body jerked instinctively at the sound of her name. How many nights did she spend dreaming of that sound again. With her off hand, she grabbed Clara’s right hand and guided it down, slipping it under her shorts and letting her touch her. Clara’s eyes opened and she could see the passion in her eyes as she felt Clara’s fingers slowly sliding back and forth. “Come to bed,” she whispered in Clara’s ear, “Come to bed with me, Clara.”   
  
\---   
  
“I never thanked you,” Clara said suddenly.   
  
“You don’t have to thank me for that, it was my pleasure,” Skye said with a laugh.   
  
Clara chucked, “No not that,” she said, and then quickly added, “I mean thank you for that, truly. But I was talking about the research you did, and the tip about Potterwatch.”   
  
“Oh good, I’m so glad,” Skye said, “I thought of all people, you would appreciate that the most. Has it been helpful?”   
  
“Very helpful, although depressing I have to admit,” she confessed. “People doing unspeakable things to hurt people, or even, protect people.”   
  
“Would you ever kill someone to save the people you love?” Skye asked her, brushing the hair off of Clara’s forehead.   
  
“I have tried very very hard not to do that, and so far, I have been successful,” Clara answered.   
  
“But that’s not really an answer though, is it?” Skye pressed her.   
  
“No I suppose not,” she replied, turning to lean on her uninjured arm. She traced her fingers down Skye’s arm and cupped her hand in her own. “I don’t think I could ever use an Unforgivable curse, but I expect that I would if it were to save one of you.”   
  
“I think we’ll see a lot of that these days,” Skye answered, intertwining her fingers with Clara’s, “Witches and wizards doing things that they normally wouldn’t have, to save the people they love.”   
  
“ _And yet, to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays,”_ Clara said, turning onto her back to gaze at the ceiling.   
  
“What was that?” Skye said, turning to look at her.   
  
“Oh, sorry, it’s a quote from _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ ,” Clara tried to explain. She saw the look on Skye’s face and then continued, “Shakespeare,” she added, and then again, “a famous muggle playwright.”   
  
Skye smiled. Clara had an endless vault of random knowledge, and she was always so keen to share it. It was one of the many things she loved about her. “You would know that.”   
  
“Badeea taught me all about Shakespeare,” Clara explained. “She went through a muggle art and culture phase in seventh year and to be quite honest, it was really interesting. In fact, some of the information was useful in my travels.”   
  
“Like what?” Skye asked her, genuinely interested.   
  
“You actually want to know?” Clara questioned her, a huge grin spilling over her face. She sat up and pulled the sheets with her, much to Skye’s dismay as she was left exposed to the cold.   
  
“Of course I do,” she answered, pulling her back down with a smile. “But first let me just…” and she kissed her once more.   
\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Midsummer Night's Dream is by far my favourite Shakespeare play but I do have a slightly funny story about it. 
> 
> In 10th grade my teacher described Titania as a beautiful, strong, fairy queen, similar to Hera from Greek mythology and then cast me as her for the entire month and asked me to emulate that. Oh, and then we watched Michelle Pfeiffer play her in the 1999 adaptation, which absolutely made me more comfortable. 
> 
> If you knew me at 16, you would understand why this is a hilarious thought. 
> 
> Oh and I absolutely added in the Shakespeare quote just so I could make a play on Tales of Beedle the Bard. 
> 
> Cheers, hope you enjoyed!


	36. She Can't Come Back Here

**CHAPTER 36: She Can’t Come Back Here**  
  
November 9th, 1997  
Holyhead, Wales  
  
  
Clara awoke in the early morning and forgot for a brief moment where she was. It wasn’t until Skye moved slightly in her sleep that Clara remembered exactly what had transpired the night before.  
  
She tiptoed out into the kitchen, trying to be as silent as possible, to grab a glass of water. As she filled up her cup, she spotted the Daily Prophet sitting on the kitchen table, open to an article by one of the worst people in the world - Rita Skeeter.  
  
She tiptoed back to the bedroom, bringing the paper with her. This was an opportunity to tease Skye that she just couldn’t pass up. She slipped back into the bed and placed a soft kiss on Skye’s forehead, causing her to stir.  
  
“Hey,” Skye said groggily, barely opening her eyes. “Why are you awake?” she asked.  
  
“Was thirsty, and then I started reading something really interesting,” she told her.  
  
“Oh, yeah?” Skye said, sleepily, snuggling closer to her. “What was that?”  
  
Clara cleared her throat and began reading out loud, “ _Skye's the Limit for Romance: Parkin’s Love Triangle Revealed_ .”  
  
Skye shot up immediately. “Oh Merlin’s bollocks. Don’t read that. It’s Rita Skeeter’s latest assassination of my character,” she admitted.  
  
Clara laughed. “Oh, but I have to read it,” she said.  
  
Skye groaned, “Fine, but I don’t want to hear it,” she said, pulling the pillow over her face.  
  
Clara read it quickly and then looked down at her with an amused expression on her face. “Should I be jealous of, what did she say,” she looked back at the paper, “ah yes, _the league’s most eligible bachelor?_ ” she teased.  
  
“Oh shut up,” Skye said, with a laugh.  
  
“Is he the _keeper of your love,_ Skye?” Clara asked her, beaming from ear to ear.  
  
Skye punched her in the arm.  
  
“Ow,” Clara said in jest.  
  
“That’s what you get for teasing me,” she said.  
  
She turned back to the paper, “I do like this line, however,” she said, pointing to Rita Skeeter’s last words.  
  
Skye didn’t answer right away, and Clara wondered what was going on in her head. “That’s the only part of the story she got right,” she said, finally.  
  
“That I am a fugitive?” Clara said with a laugh.  
  
“No,” she said firmly, “that I love you.”  
  
Clara’s heart skipped a beat and she smiled. “You do?” she asked.  
  
“Always,” she answered, and brushed another sleepy kiss over Clara’s lips. And if Clara had died in that moment, she might have been okay with that.  
  
Suddenly there was a loud, booming knock at the door. They looked at each other and Clara saw the confusion on her face. It was a Sunday, who could be calling, she wondered.  
  
“Skye Parkin,” came a loud voice that she knew. “We are here from the ministry to ask you some questions. Open up, now.”  
  
“That’s Peterson,” Clara whispered as Skye jumped up. “I need to hide.”  
  
“What do I do?” Skye asked, in a panic.  
  
“You have to let them in,” Clara said, trying to calm her down. “And grab my clothes and throw them in here.”  
  
“Open up, Parkin!” he yelled from the other side, “or we will blast this door open.”  
  
“What are you going to do?” Skye asked her, scrambling to put her clothes on.  
  
Clara smiled, and then transformed. She laid down on the floor and pretended to sleep.  
  
“Of course,” Skye whispered with a smile. Clara watched her walk out of the bedroom and to the door. She heard some murmuring and then she saw two black cloaks walk through the door, into the living room.  
  
“Is there anyone else here?” Peterson asked her.  
  
“No, just me, and you woke me from my sleep, thank you very much,” Skye said irritably.  
  
“Let me check,” Peterson said, walking into the bedroom. “What’s this?” he said, pointing his wand at Clara.  
  
“My dog?” Skye answered.  
  
“Snyde, doesn’t this look like the same dog from the stadium?” he asked the second black cloak.  
  
Merula walked in and stared at her. Nobody knew her canine form better than Merula; she could see the wheels turning in her head. “It’s just a dog, Peterson. They all look the same, don’t they?” she said.  
  
“Hmpf,” he raised his wand and was about to curse her when SKye interjected.  
  
“Oi, what are you doing to my dog?” she yelled.  
  
“None of your business,” he said but then Merula stepped in.  
  
“Come on, Peterson, there’s no one else here,” she said, sending a glance between Clara and Skye. “Let’s ask our questions and then move on.”  
  
He considered it for a moment and then conceded. “Fine,” he said, heading back into the kitchen. Clara decided to follow and sidled up beside Skye’s leg.  
  
“Have you been in contact with any Undesirables?” he asked.  
  
“I don’t know the entire list, so you’ll have to be more specific,” she answered coolly.  
  
“I’ll remind you that you should check your tone when you are talking to a Ministry official,” he said. “Have you been in contact with Clara O’Connor?”  
  
She sighed, “I saw her at Bill Weasley’s wedding in the summer and then again in Wimbourne. She saved me from being attacked by Fenrir Greyback.”  
  
“So you haven’t seen her since?” he pressed.  
  
“No, I haven’t,” she lied.  
  
“I don’t believe her,” he said, turning to Merula. “The article said that she knew her.”  
  
Skye laughed, “Wait, are you basing this on Rita Skeeter’s article?”  
  
Clara looked at Merula who looked as though she was trying to stifle a laugh. Peterson was not amused. “Rita Skeeter has been an invaluable resource during these times of uprising, why wouldn’t we trust her words?” he countered.  
  
“Because her last article had me dating four different people and last year she tried to tell everyone that I was actually a harpy in disguise,” she said. “It’s just a tabloid. I was friends with Clara during school, she was my teammate, just like Charlie Weasley, but I was never involved with what they did with the vaults. And the wedding was the first time I saw any of them in years.”  
  
Peterson turned to Merula, “Do you believe her?”  
  
“Yes, I do,” she nodded, “I saw Skye at the wedding and she left early. I think you’re barking up the wrong path here.”  
  
He grunted, “I still want to look around. For example, why are there two glasses out on the table? Did you have company last night?”  
  
“As a matter of fact, I did,” she said, “but he didn’t like my dog, so he left early,” she continued, causing Merula to stifle another laugh.  
  
“Hmpf,” Peterson continued. “You know that harbouring a fugitive is a crime. So if we find out that you were involved in hiding O’Connor, or any of the Undesirables, you will be punished in kind.” He turned to Merula, “Watch her, while I search.” He whipped his robe behind him and then proceeded to search the bedroom. Clara followed him to watch what he was doing; she sat at the doorway as he tore apart Skye’s bedroom. As she was watching, she realized that she couldn’t come back here. They were on the trail and no matter how much interference Merula played, Skye was in danger now.  
  
Peterson finished his search and returned to the kitchen. Skye and Merula were sitting in silence, watching him walk back out. He was about to head to the door when he saw Clara’s coat hanging on the hook. He picked it up and the hair on Clara’s back started to stiffen; she couldn’t control it but she started to growl as he examined it.  
  
“J. O.” he said, examining the tag on the collar. “Who is J. O.?” he asked turning to Skye.  
  
Clara looked at Merula who was looking at her with an expression of ‘ _what were you thinking?’_ _  
_  
“Must have been my date’s initials. I never got his last name,” she shrugged, taking a sip of water.  
  
“Time to go,” said Merula, looking at both of them. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Parkin. Your dog isn’t too happy that we’re here, so I think it’s time we take our leave. If you see any sign of O'Connor, please contact us.” She slipped a small roll of parchment into Skye’s hand.  
  
Skye nodded and watched them leave down the stairs. She closed the door and locked it, then started putting protective enchantments on it.  
  
She turned back to Clara who was now back in human form and fully clothed.  
  
“Who’s J.O.?” she asked.  
  
“Merula’s husband,” she said simply. “It’s my brother’s coat.”  
  
Skye stared at her. “Wait, back up. Merula’s… husband… was… Jacob?”  
  
“Yes,” she said. “I just found out a week ago, the day Ben disappeared.”  
  
“But did you know that they were…”  
  
“Dating?” she asked, “I guess so. I mean I knew for a while but they pretended nothing was going on. And then while I was away in Norway, he sent a letter saying he was going to propose and I knew he meant to propose to Merula.”  
  
“But you didn’t know they were married?” Skye asked.  
  
“No, I just learned that,” she admitted. “Oh bloody hell,” she realized. “My mother is going to flip when she finds out. She already blames me for letting him propose.”  
  
Skye stared at her blankly. “How could that be your fault?”  
  
“Everything is my fault, according to her,” Clara shrugged.  
  
“How do you feel about it? Knowing they were together?” she asked.  
  
Clara sighed, “Merula’s my family, we understand each other. We don’t judge each other. And somehow she understood Jacob better than anyone else. I mean, you’ve met him, you know how he was.”  
  
Skye nodded. “Why is she in Death Eater robes? Can you tell me?” she asked.  
  
Clara shook her head, “I can’t, and it’s truly best that you don’t know, for your safety and for hers. She’s sacrificing a lot, for something Dumbledore asked her to do.”  
  
“You know, I see you, Clara O’Connor,” she began, “I think maybe I understand you now, better than ever.”  
  
Clara was surprised, “So you know why I have to keep things from you?”  
  
Skye nodded, “I get it now, it only took me seven years,” she said with a small smile.  
  
Clara breathed a sigh of relief, then she remembered the scroll. “What did she give you?”  
  
Skye looked down at her hand, “I almost forgot,” she opened the scroll and read it, then passed it to her.  
  
 _They know more than you think, you can’t let her come here anymore._ _  
__  
_She looked up at Skye who nodded. “You can’t come here again,” she said, closing the gap between them.  
  
Clara grabbed her hands and pressed her forehead against hers, “I know,” she said. “So let me just enjoy this last time.” And then she kissed her one more time. When they separated, she walked back to the door and pulled on Jacob’s coat.  
  
She turned back to Skye, words failing her.  
  
“I know,” said Skye.  
  
Clara nodded, “I will see you again, soon.” She reached into the coat and pulled out the vial Penny gave her and downed it. She looked down at her hands which were now invisible and Skye opened the door for her. She gave her one last look and then disapparated with a pop.  
  
\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter to just focus on that last moment. 
> 
> The keeper of your love pun had me laughing, to myself, of course. 
> 
> Cheers!


	37. House Arrest

**CHAPTER 37: House Arrest  
**  
 _  
November 9 th, 1997  
Snyde Manor  
  
  
_Clara quickly made it back to to the house, unable to contain the smile plastered all over her face. Fortunately, she was still invisible and was able to sneak back up into her bedroom without drawing attention to herself. She grabbed a change of clothes and tiptoed to the bathroom to take a quick shower. While she was waiting for the water to heat up there was a knock at the door.   
  
“Clara?” came Penny’s voice from the other corridor, “Is that you?”   
  
“Yes, it’s me,” she answered.   
  
“Okay good. When you’re done can you come down to the cellar?” she asked.   
  
“Of course. Be down in five,” she called out, and then hopped in the shower. She let the water run over her while she tried to hold on to the last twelve hours for just one moment longer before addressing the next crisis. However, despite her best efforts, her thoughts were now redirected and she hoped that the sudden summons to the basement wasn’t something serious.   
  
She turned off the water, quickly toweled herself off and got dressed before proceeding to the cellar. When she arrived she found Penny pacing back and forth and Chiara trying to console her.   
  
“It’s going to be fine Pen, we still have time to get extra supplies,” she told her.   
  
“What’s going on?’ Clara asked as she walked down the stairs to join them.   
  
“I ran out of ingredients for the Wolfsbane potion,” she said.   
  
“Wait, for this month?” Clara said, shooting them a worried glance.   
  
“Fortunately, no,” Chiara answered for Penny who was pacing again. “But we may be in trouble next month.”   
  
“Well that gives us some time, doesn’t it?” Clara asked.   
  
“It gives us five days,” Penny exclaimed, “If I don’t start brewing the potion on the day after the full moon it won’t be ready for the next one.”   
  
Clara knew not to push Penny when she got to this point; she already struggled with anxiety, and adding the safety of three full grown werewolves to her plate was not helping.   
  
“What ingredients do we need?” Clara asked.   
  
Chiara looked at the list, “Well, wolfsbane to begin with, and also black quicksilver.”   
  
“Wolfsbane is easy; we're out of stock at the shop but I can buy some from Slugs and Jiggers. Black quicksilver, however, is not available on the regular market,” Penny explained.   
  
“So, that’s easy then,” Clara said with a smile, “we need to find some on the black market.”   
  
Penny stared at her. “What is easy about that?” she exclaimed.   
  
“Who do we know that deals in dodgy exports?” she asked her.   
  
“Jae Kim,” Chiara answered simply.   
  
“And who do we know that could get in contact with him fast?” Clara continued.   
  
“Tulip,” Penny said. “But the shop is closed, Clara. The twins had to shut it down,” she explained. “The last I heard she was working at the Ministry with her parents.”   
  
Clara thought about it for a moment, “Would Tonks know where she is?” she asked.   
  
“I think so,” Chiara chimed in, “but how can we get to Tonks?”   
  
“I can go,” Clara offered. “I know how to get a message to her.”   
  
Chiara and Penny looked at each other and then back at Clara. “We can’t let you.”   
  
“What do you mean?” she questioned them.   
  
“Merula made us swear that we would keep you in the house,” Penny told her.   
  
“She gave us strict orders to keep you here,” Chiara added.   
  
“You’re kidding me, right?” Clara said.   
  
They shook their head. “You can’t leave,” Penny said. “And please don’t make us stop you, we really don’t want to do that.”   
  
She sighed, “Fine. I’ll stay put, but one of you need to go see her.”   
  
“Just tell me how,” Chiara smiled.   
  
\---  
 _  
November 10 th, 1997  
  
  
_“So what did she say?” Clara asked the moment Chiara walked in the door.   
  
“Give her some space,” Penny told her while she ushered Chiara into the drawing room.   
  
“Remus asked about the boys, says he made a contact with a couple more that are hiding out in the Forest of Dean,” she said, taking a seat by the fire. “He thinks we should go track them down soon.”   
  
“Excellent. I’m ready to go whenever Merula lets me leave,” Clara said bitterly.   
  
“What about Tulip?” Penny pressed her.   
  
“Well that’s the best part,” she beamed, “Tulip was there when I arrived.”   
  
“You’re joking,” Clara said, “That might be the most luck I have ever had since the time I drank Felix Felicis.”   
  
They both looked at her. “When did you drink Felix Felicis?” Penny asked, narrowing her eyes.   
  
“Uhh,” Clara backtracked, “it’s a story for another time I think.”   
  
Penny eyed her but then turned back to Chiara. “So what did she say?”   
  
“She asked for the amount you need and said she will contact Jae right away,” Chiara told them.   
  
“Well that’s excellent!” Penny said.   
  
“There is one more thing, however,” Chiara said, “I had to give her the address. It was the only way to ensure that the supplies get to us fast.”   
  
“Will she be bringing them? Or will Jae?” Clara asked.   
  
The colour drained from her already pale face. “I didn’t specify.”   
  
Penny looked at Clara, “This is okay, right?”   
  
“It will be. Let me handle Merula if the situation arises,” Clara answered, trying her best to comfort her friends. “But Chiara I think you need to clarify that with her. Send an owl right away, keep it brief, make sure it’s indiscernible in case it falls into the wrong hands.”   
  
Chiara nodded. “I’ll head to Holyhead and send it from there.”   
  
Clara nodded. “Will you…” she began. “Nevermind. Just get the letter to her.”   
  
Chiara gave her an odd look. She hadn’t told either of them about what happened, there hadn’t been a relaxing moment in the house since the day she returned.   
  
Penny, however, must have sensed that something was going on as she quickly changed the subject. “Tulip is trustworthy, right?” Penny asked.   
  
“Of course,” Clara answered, “if anything, it’s Jae’s contacts I’m worried about.” She turned back to Chiara. “It was a judgment call and it was the right one. Just need to make sure we cover out bases from now on.”   
  
They all nodded in agreement.  
  
\---  
 _  
November 12 th, 1997  
  
  
_“I can’t believe it, she got everything,” Penny said, looking at the boxes of supplies. “We will be set for a whole year if we need it.”   
  
“Hopefully it won’t be that long, but better safe than sorry,” Chiara said.   
  
“Is she still here?” Clara asked. “What about Jae?”   
  
“No, she had to do the drop off fast in order to get back to work without anyone suspecting anything,” Chiara answered. “Jae doesn’t know the address, and he didn’t want to know, he’s just glad to hear we are all okay.”  
  
“That’s good to hear, but is she okay? Have they questioned her?” Penny pressed her.   
  
“She said she’s been cross-examined a few times, but the best thing you could have done is stay in the cellar while she was here, Clara. That way she can continue to tell them she’s had no contact with you,” Chiara explained.   
  
“I’m torn between feeling guilty and being grateful that I haven’t seen her in years,” Clara admitted sadly.   
  
“You will soon,” Chiara said. “She made that part abundantly clear.”   
  
“Oh?” Penny asked.   
  
“She put the ring back on today,” Chiara said with a smile. “She said she’ll be ready when the call comes in.”   
  
It seemed like such a small thing, but to Clara, it meant everything.  
 _  
_\---

 _November 13th, 1997  
_  
Merula and Clara sat in the drawing room in silence. It had been almost a week since Merula’s sudden appearance in Waies, and just over two weeks since Ben’s disappearance. Merula said she heard some rumblings about where they are keeping confirmed muggle-borns, but since the day that she gave Clara strict instructions to stay at Snyde Manor until the dust had settled, none of them had seen her. Clara knew she wouldn’t answer any of her questions about her whereabouts, so she continued to read her notes. Finally, Merula had had enough of the silence.   
  
“So,” began Merula, “are we going to talk about it?”   
  
“Talk about what?” Clara said, avoiding her gaze.   
  
“What I walked into last Sunday?”   
  
“Barged in, more like,” Clara said, giving her a sideways glance.   
  
“I assure you it wasn’t my idea,” she said.   
  
“Yes why did you come rushing in?” Clara asked her, “Surely the Death Eaters don’t take stock in Rita Skeeter’s words?”   
  
“No, they don’t, but Peterson does,” Merula admitted. “He read her tell all about Dumbledore and now he believes everything she writes. Did Skye read the note I gave her?”  
  
“Yes,” Clara answered.  
  
“You can’t go back there, Clara,” Merula continued. “Despite Peterson’s idiocy, they do suspect that Skye knows where you are. They will be watching her, very carefully.”   
  
Clara’s blood froze, “What are you saying?”   
  
“I’m saying that it may be in her best interest to find a a safe place to go. Perhaps with her family,” Merula told her.   
  
Clara considered her warning, “Would you take a letter to her? If I asked you to.”   
  
“It seems like you are, and it’s likely that I can. However, I would give it a week or two, so I can come up with a good reason as to why I would go to Wales,” Merula told her.   
  
Clara nodded. “How much danger is she in?”   
  
“A lot more if you go visit her,” Merula said firmly.   
  
Clara stared into the fire. She knew hat it was the right thing to do, for now, but she just got her back.   
  
Merula seemed to know what she was thinking. “I know it’s not what you want to hear,” she said sympathetically.   
  
Clara looked back at her friend. “We should talk about you and Jacob,” she stated.   
  
Merula sighed. “Must we?”   
  
Clara nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me? Don’t dance around it, just tell it to me straight.”   
  
Merula turned her gaze to the fire. “You were gone and I wanted to wait until you were back, but he insisted. He was adamant about it, which in retrospect should have been my clue as to what was happening.”   
  
“He knew he was in trouble?” Clara guessed.   
  
“Yes. Combined with what Penny told us, he was in deep and I’m guessing he wanted to get his affairs in order,” Merula told her. “He made a will, and gave everything to me. Well, except one thing that he left to you.”   
  
Clara looked up. “He left me something?”   
  
Merula nodded. “It’s a wooden chest that is completely locked and safe in my vault.”   
  
“Do you know what’s in it?” she asked.   
  
“I haven’t even tried to guess, Clara,” she sighed, “but maybe it’s time you do. I can get it to you this week, if you’d like.”   
  
Clara nodded, “I think I would,” she answered. “But still, why did you wait so long to tell me all of this?”   
  
Merula looked over at her, “I was afraid you wouldn’t forgive me,” she admitted, “and I think there was a part of me that was still upset that you left, although I do understand it.”   
  
“Can we forgive each other and agree that we will try to be more truthful about these things in the future?” Clara asked her, reaching out her hand.   
  
Merula took it and grasped it tightly. “Agreed.”   
  
Satisfied, Clara got up from her chair and walked over to the desk in the corner. She grabbed a quill, some ink, and a spare piece of parchment, and scribbled a note for Skye. She sealed it and then handed it back to Merula. “You know what this means, right?” Clara asked her.   
  
“What would that be?” she replied.   
  
“By wizarding law, this means you’re an O’Connor,” Clara teased.   
  
“Oh bloody hell, I didn’t think of that,” she said with a laugh. “I suppose there are worse things to be,” she shrugged.   
  
“The jury’s still out,” Clara said, thinking about her time in Ireland, “because you haven’t met my parents.”   
  
Merula scoffed, “They can’t be as bad as mine.”   
  
“The world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters. Every family has their secrets and their shame,” Clara told her. “Your parents hated anything that wasn’t within the pure blood rhetoric, mine hate anyone that believes in it. But at the end of the day, hatred is still hatred, and I think we’ve had enough of that in the world.”   
  
“Well said,” Merula agreed.   
  
“My mother won’t even let me in the house,” Clara confessed. “She let me grab some things the last time, but told me I wasn’t welcome back.”   
  
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “And your father?”   
  
“Doesn’t feel the same, but won’t cross my mother unfortunately,” she told her. “It doesn’t matter, in the end. It’ll never be home with Jacob gone,” she added.   
  
Merula nodded. “How long did you know about Jacob and I?”   
  
Clara laughed, “I think before the two of you did.”   
  
Merula smiled slightly.   
  
"Hey Merula," Clara asked. "Can I leave the house this week?"   
  
Merula turned to answer but then there was a loud knock at the door. They looked at each other, waiting to see if they would knock again. Sure enough, there was a loud boom coming from the outside.   
  
“Head downstairs and keep Penny and Chiara down there with you. I’ll try to keep them at the door,” Merula whispered.   
  
Merula waited until Clara was at the cellar door before walking down the corridor. Clara sprinted down the stairs and saw Chiara and Penny checking on the Wolfsbane potion simmering in the cauldron.   
  
Penny looked up and saw the panic on Clara’s face. “What’s wrong?” she asked, jumping to her feet.   
  
“Someone’s at the door,” she answered, “stay down here, and stay quiet. I’m going to listen at the door.” They nodded and Clara crept back up the stairs to listen.   
  
After a moment, she heard Merula yell for her to come back upstairs. She motioned for Chiara and Penny to come with. She crept back up the stairs and walked towards the door where Merula was standing beside a figure that was slumped against the wall.   
  
As she got closer she realized what she was seeing. “BEN!” she yelled, “Oh thank Merlin. Is he okay?” she asked Merula when Ben didn’t stir.   
  
“He’s fine, but that’s not all. Wait until you see who brought him home,” she grinned and stepped out of the way. And standing there, bold as brass, taller than ever, was none other than Barnaby Lee.   
  
\---  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens!!!


	38. I'm the Captain Now

**CHAPTER 38: I’m the Captain Now  
  
**

_September 18th, 1990  
_ _Hogwarts Castle, Scotland  
  
_

“What’s on your mind?” Penny asked her as she sat at the desk adjacent to the Gryffindor changing room.

“I don’t think I can do this, Pen,” Clara answered.

“McGonagall wouldn’t have chosen you if she didn’t believe you could,” Penny told her, trying to reassure her no doubt. However, it only reminded her that she wasn’t the person McGonagall wanted in the first place.

“The only reason I am Gryffindor’s captain is because I was the only choice,” Clara admitted bitterly.

“That’s not true,” Penny said.

“Think about it,” she said, “If Charlie or Skye were here, would you have picked me?”

Penny sighed, “Okay, fine, they definitely have more quidditch knowledge than you, but if that was the only thing a captain needed, then Oliver Wood would have been captain this year.”

“He’s probably the better choice regardless,” Clara continued.

“Oliver is fourteen years old,” Penny reminded her.

“And is still a better choice. Besides, we broke the Forest Vault at fourteen, so I wouldn’t hold his age against him,” Clara stated.

“That’s it, Clara!” Penny exclaimed.

“What?” Clara asked.

“We broke the Forest Vault as a team, each of us bringing something different to the table. So maybe that’s how you need to approach your new position,” Penny explained.

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Clara said.

“Right, so you are an excellent leader, Clara, but you lead by action rather than rousing speeches. You listen well and aren’t scared of sharing the spotlight or trying other peoples’ ideas,” Penny continued. “Oliver, on the other hand, has a ton of quidditch knowledge, so consult with him. Work with him to come up with the best strategies.”

Clara considered her advice. “It won’t look like I am deferring my duties?”

Penny shook her head, “Not at all. Asking for help and admitting when you don’t know the answer is a show of strength in leadership.”

“Orion led us like that, now that I think about it,” Clara said, “but he also had the strategy to back it up.”

“You know more than you think, and most importantly, you aren’t afraid of making the tough decisions,” Penny added.

Clara sighed and got up from the desk. She looked at the depth chart on the black board. Much to the surprise of everybody, Clara moved herself back to chaser after the tryouts had concluded. The Weasley twins were young but natural beaters, and no one made a better team than the two of them. McNully described them as human bludgers, which was a statement Clara couldn’t argue with. 

“We are excellent on the back line, but we don’t have a seeker,” Clara said, turning back to Penny. “Well, at least a competent one,” she added. “MacDonald is trying, but he’s just not good enough for where we need to be.”

“Can you train him?” she asked.

“Certainly going to try,” she shrugged. “But that makes the strategy clear at least for our first match. We have to score,” she said, “we have to score a lot of goals to give ourselves a chance.”

“And do you think you can do it?” Penny asked.

“Well Derrick Cole is a fantastic player, much like his sister Angelica was. I think he’s even better than he was last year and ready to take on a much larger role now that Orion and Skye have left,” Clara said, shifting back to blackboard. “But then there’s young Angelina Johnson. Despite being shockingly good for a twelve year old I am worried that she may not be quite ready for the speed of the game.”

“Were there any other options?” Penny asked.

“Unfortunately the next best was her best friend, Alicia Spinnet, who is also only a second year. I took her as a reserve, though,” she explained, “as Gryffindor will be losing two chasers this year and I don’t want to leave the team with nothing.”

Penny nodded along with Clara’s brainstorming.

“With Charlie, I think we could have won another Cup. With Skye and Charlie, we absolutely would have won another one,” Clara finished.

“You miss her, don’t you?” Penny asked in a soft tone.

“I miss a lot of people,” Clara said, a little more harshly than necessary.

“Clara…” Penny cautioned her.

Clara turned back around to face her. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. It’s just… I’ve never done any of it without her,” Clara admitted. “She’s the reason I get to wear this badge, and now she’s not even here to see it.” In that moment, she felt a pang of anger and another one of guilt. “I shouldn’t be in this position, I never wanted it.”

“You’ve more than earned it,” Penny told her firmly. “Skye would say the same thing."

Clara shook her head. “I don’t know, Penny.”

“When was the last time you saw her?” Penny asked.

“The last night of school,” Clara told her. “I didn’t take the train back, remember?”

“Have you written to her?”

“No. This summer was hard enough.”

“You should write to her,” Penny suggested. “She might be able to help you.”

Clara shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Penny eyed her carefully and then it dawned on her. “You still love her,” she stated.

“Yes, I do.”

\---

 _September 21_ _st_ _, 1990  
_

“Wood,” Clara said, “meet me in the office when you’re finished with your breakfast. We have some things to discuss.”

Oliver choked on his toast, “Okay, Cap’,” he said. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Clara nodded and then walked out of the Great Hall; she felt the stares following her, she heard the whispers as she walked away. She had made a conscious decision to stay out of the Great Hall, the Library, and any other common areas unless she had no other choice. Their constant whispering about the vaults she could handle, but the comments about Rowan’s death were almost too much to deal with. 

She made her way to the grounds and passed through a group of terrified first-years who dispersed the moment she walked their way. She had almost made it to the quidditch pitch when she heard the heckling start behind her.

“Where are you going, O’Connor?” he called out, a sickly grin covering his face.

“None of your concern, Flint,” she casually responded.

“Be careful out there, you don’t have many friends to spare, do you?” he taunted her.

“Careful, Flint, if you lose any more brain cells, you might not have any left,” she shot back.

“What did you just say?” he said, approaching her.

“Oh I’m sorry, should I use smaller words?” she asked, calmly.

Clara was glad to see he was fuming. “Just you wait, we are going to flatten you on the pitch,” he yelled back.

“Maybe you will, Flint, but as it stands, I have two Cups to your none, and unlike you, I’ll graduate in seven years,” she stated coolly.

“How dare you speak to me like that!” he yelled and raised his wand, but Clara was too quick for him. Before he even began his incantation her hex had landed. Flint was bent over while black bats were flying out of his nose.

She heard a laugh behind her and saw Merula and Penny standing there. Penny was not amused but Merula was grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m going to report you, O’Connor!” he yelled, covering his face.

“Go right ahead,” she answered while he ran back up towards the school. She sighed, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Penny warned her, “and as Head Girl I ought to report you.”

“I think it was bloody brilliant,” Merula countered.

“Thanks,” Clara beamed.

“Ugh, you two are incorrigible!” Penny exclaimed and began her walk back up to the castle.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell Snape what happened when I head back up. I heard what he said about Khanna,” she assured Clara.

Clara nodded in thanks. “How come you two were here?” Clara asked.

“I saw Flint in the courtyard and when he started to follow you I grabbed Penny in case he tried something,” Merula explained.

“Isn’t it considered bad form to not defend a fellow Slytherin?” Clara teased her.

“Only when the Slytherin in question isn’t a total idiot,” Merula shrugged. “Listen, O’Connor, Flint may have been the first to try and provoke you, but he certainly won’t be the last.”

“I need to find better ways to respond,” Clara acknowledged, “as it’s only going to get worse.”

“We’ve got work to do, O’Connor, can’t have you wasting time in detention,” Merula reminded her with a smile.

“Indeed we do,” she said and then took her leave. She headed down to the Gryffindor changing room to wait for Oliver. While she waited, she took the opportunity to look around the office, something she hadn’t really done since she was appointed captain.

It felt wrong, being in a space that for so long was Orion’s, especially considering how little she really knew him. The last she had heard, Orion was planning a trip to the Himalayans to work with a community of wizard monks. She wondered if she would ever see him again. 

She sighed and sank back into the chair. If someone had told her three years ago that she would be the one sitting in the seat behind the desk, she would have laughed, but as it was, she was responsible for the success of the team and she did plan to succeed. She checked her notes from their last training session and noticed that she had forgotten to write down the results of the final scrimmage. She checked her pack and found a quill but realized that she didn’t have any ink with her. She opened the drawers in the desk and found a small bottle tucked in the back of the bottom drawer. As she grabbed it, she noticed an envelope tucked under a book of rudimentary quidditch tactics. She pulled it out and was surprised to see that it was addressed to her.

She was about to open it but then she heard a knock at the door.

“You wanted to see me, O’Connor?” Oliver asked tentatively.

“Yes, come sit down,” she said to him. “You’re not in trouble, Wood,” she added.

“Oh that’s a relief,” he said, unable to contain a smile, “I was afraid it was something I said.”

She gave him an amused look. “Should you tell me what you said?” she asked him.

“Umm, well, I was helping Angelina with her angles and I said that we should be doing more advantage drills at practice,” he confessed, “I realized I may have overstepped.”

Clara peered at him from her side of the desk. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “You are correct, we should do more advantage drills and we will.” She took a moment and considered how to approach the situation. “Tell me, Wood, what do you think the best qualities of a leader are?”

Oliver it seemed did not expect the question. “The best qualities of a leader?”

“Yes,” she said, “What do you want from your leaders? What qualities do you think make leaders successful?”

“Umm, knowledge, patience, passion for the game I suppose,” Oliver told her.

“I don’t want you to tell me what you think I want to hear,” Clara stated firmly, “I want to know what you really need from me.”

Oliver stayed silent for a moment, “I want to be challenged by you, but I also don’t want to be stifled. I want a chance to grow and to have a hand in this team succeeding. I want to be a professional one day and I know I won’t get there if I’m not allowed to speak up when I think we can do things better.”

Clara smiled, “Thank you for telling the truth,” she said. She got up and went to the blackboard. “Do you have your journal with you?” she asked.

“I do,” he answered.

“Good,” she said, turning to face him. “I agree with you, Oliver, you have good ideas and we are going to make use of them.”

He looked up, astonished, “Really?” he asked.

“Yes,” Clara told him. “I’m naming you assistant captain, if you’ll accept it.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, unable to contain his excitement. “Because if so, of course I accept.”

“I am serious. But now it’s time you learn about the expectations I have for you,” she said firmly. “We need to be a team, but at the end of the day I will have the final decision on how we proceed. Understood?”

He nodded.

“What you said to Angelina was harmless and I know you were not intending to undermine me, but you need to make sure you don’t contradict me in front of the rest of the team, do you know why?” she posed.

“Umm, because it will give them permission to do so?” he guessed.

“Exactly. You and I need to be on the same page when we are out on the pitch. Save your arguments, criticisms, and comments for in this office,” she told him. “I am going to challenge you, yes, but you are also going to have the opportunity to challenge me in here. But on the pitch, you have to have my back. Understood?”

He nodded once more.

“And the last thing, for today, is this: the best leaders are the ones that know how to follow,” she said. “I want you to think about that this weekend and then we will meet on Monday to discuss your thoughts on the matter. I also want you to bring a couple of the ideas you have for training and how to tackle Hufflepuff.”

“Yes Cap’, thank you for the opportunity,” he beamed.

“You’ve earned it, truly. I’m going to tell the team at training tonight, so keep it quiet until then, got it?”

He nodded and then practically ran out of the office.

 _He’s a good lad,_ she thought with a smile and then turned her attention to the letter on the desk.  
  
She opened the envelope, pulled out the letter tucked inside and began to read it.   
  
_  
_

_Dear Clara,_

  
_When I heard you were named Gryffindor’s newest quidditch captain it made me think about the first time the two of us spent training together. Gods, I was so harsh with you. I remember talking to Chiara after the first session and telling her how frustrated I was with you. I almost didn’t come to the next session.  
  
For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why I was so frustrated but it eventually dawned on me. You see, for four years, the only thing I focused on was quidditch. I wasn’t good at making friends and yet, connecting with people came so easily to you. So I spent my time alone, hoping that Clara O’Connor might one day turn around and see me. It never occurred to me to just try and connect with you.  
  
So when you reached out to me, it was like my wildest dream and my worst nightmare all rolled into one. I wanted so badly to know you, like, really know you, and I wanted you to see me as more than just that quidditch girl you share a dorm with.  
  
But then there was that part of me that didn’t want you to be good, because then that would be one more thing you had that I didn’t. You were already famous, you excelled in the classroom, and you were well respected by professors and students. All I had was quidditch, and the idea of someone being better than me was a threat I didn’t know how to handle. Unfortunately for me, you were good right from the start. You lacked refinement, you didn’t understand the rules well, but your instincts were better than anyone else’s.  
  
After a few sessions with you, I started to see you. You asked good questions and you never slacked off, but the most interesting thing about you was that you wanted to be good for the benefit others, not yourself. I regretted feeling the way I did in the beginning, because after just a couple sessions I knew that just being around you would make me better. And you did, Clara, you made me better on and off the pitch.  
  
So if you ever start to feel overwhelmed in this position, just know that you changed my life just by being in it. It wasn’t your knowledge of the game that changed me; it was that you wanted me to succeed just as much as I did. You strive to empower people and never overpower them and that is why you deserve this role more than anyone. There is no one else that I would have wanted to play for in my final year.  
  
I wish I could have told you all of this in person and I hope that I will in time. There are still so many things I want to say to you but I’ll leave it at this for now.  
  
Good luck, Captain, you've earned this.  
  
  
Love,  
  
Skye_

_  
_Clara took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. She read Skye's words over and over until the words echoed in her head. It was overwhelming to see Skye's handwriting again considering they hadn't talked since the night she left. She thought about the time they spent together and wondered if she would ever see each other again as their lives were destined to be apart. But this letter, she would cherish this letter until the end of her days.  
  
Everything was going to be okay. She couldn't handle this now.  
 _  
_  
\---  
  
  
  



	39. The Ruse

  
**CHAPTER 39: The Ruse  
  
**

_November 15_ _th_ _, 1997  
_ _Holyhead, Wales_

Skye stepped on the pitch and took a breath of fresh air. She loved match days, even match days that are filled with as much apprehension as a match against the Wigtown Wanderers. The fans wouldn’t arrive for two hours, the Wanderers were likely sequestered in the changing room, preparing for the quaffle toss. Her mind has been elsewhere for most of the week due to the events of the previous weekend, but on match days, she had one singular focus, and that was on winning.  
  
She hadn't heard from Clara and accepted that she likely wouldn't for awhile. She cursed herself for loving someone so unavailable, but when she was available, of how she loved her. They had stayed up so late that night becoming reacquainted with each other, sharing stories of the last two years and spending a lot of time exploring each other's bodies. After she left the next day it dawned on her that Clara probably knew that they would only get one night and she was thankful that they made the most of it. Still, if she could see her again, she would have given almost anything for it.

She surveyed the pitch once more and was about to head back down when she heard a familiar voice calling her name from across the pitch. She looked over and saw Oliver Wood walking towards her.

“Wood? What are you doing here?” she asked, confused.

“Bye week,” he shrugged. “Your Da’ asked me to come watch the game. Said he wants me to pick up some pointers from their keeper. But I’m guessing it has more to do with the article Rita Skeeter wrote,” he added with a laugh.

Skye groaned. “I’m so sorry you got dragged into that nonsense.”

He laughed, “No need to apologize. My parents certainly loved it, even though I told him repeatedly that it was a load of rubbish.”

Skye relaxed, “So you’re not annoyed?”

“Not at all. It’s completely flattering, to be sure, but it also takes the pressure off of me. You see, I have been seeing someone, but I’m not ready to tell and nor are they,” he explained. “In fact, it would be quite dangerous if we did.”

“Oh, that sounds quite intriguing,” she teased.

“It’s not so sordid, but given the state of the world, it’s best that we keep it quiet,” he admitted. “However, I was thinking that the timing of this article could end up being a perfect cover for you and I,” he added.

Skye raised her eyebrow. “Oliver, are you about to ask what I think you’re about to ask?” she questioned him.

“Think about it, Skye. It could be in both of our best interests,” he continued. “This way we can communicate like this, and talk about things that ought not to be overheard without any suspicion. People who are, well, in favour of the new regime may leave us alone if they think that the reason why we are meeting in secret is related to our relationship, and nothing else.”

“I don’t know, Oliver, isn’t it a bit dangerous?” she asked.

“What isn’t dangerous these days,” he shrugged. “Besides, it will help take the attention off of you, considering the other rumours.”

“Other rumours?” she pressed him.

Oliver looked away and then dropped his voice to a whisper, “That you are dating women.”

She was about to protest but he interjected, “Listen, I am supportive either way. I believe that the love between two people shouldn't know gender, but I am also not naïve. I know your father likely doesn’t approve and would do anything to stop the rumours so I see this as a way of helping you, for the time being, continue playing and well, living, without suspicion.”

_Was it just her or was this starting to make sense?_

“How long have you known?” she asked.

“I was thirteen when you and Clara were my teammates,” he said, “I wasn’t stupid.”

“Oh, lovely,” she said, wondering how many others were thirteen and not stupid.

“I would never divulge your secret to anyone, believe me,” he said. “I know you don’t want to sit back and watch the world implode around us, but you can’t do that if you’re locked up in a cell in Azkaban, or worse, you lose your career.”

“Aye, you make some good points,” she admitted. “But why did you wait until now to suggest this?”

“Because the Death Eaters knocked down my door and demanded I tell them if I knew where Clara O’Connor was,” he explained. “Given that I haven’t seen her since she graduated the only connection from me to her was the article and that was what made it click for me.”

“I hope no one else connects the dots that quickly,” Skye admitted.

“Aye, I hope that too. But in case they do, I will do everything I can to make sure they don’t find her,” he said firmly.

Skye was surprised. “I didn’t realize you and Clara were so close,” she said.

“I know it doesn’t seem that way, especially considering we haven’t seen each other in years,” he started, “but I truly believe that if it wasn’t for Clara and all that she did for me, I wouldn’t be the man that I am today.”

“What did she do?” Skye asked, desperate to know.

“She believed in me,” he said simply. “I know it seems insignificant, but she actually listened to me and challenged me like no one else has.”

Skye nodded thinking about Clara as a teammate, and well, a human being. “She has that way about her,” she agreed.

“A lot of people will forget that season, because of the beating we took against Slytherin, but I never will. She took so much criticism that year, Skye,” he continued. “But she never let it break her. She took all of the blame and none of the credit.”

“Maybe you were all better off without Charlie and I,” she admitted. “It sounds like she was the better choice at the end of the day.

Oliver shook his head, “I don’t look at it that way. She was put in an impossible situation with a bunch of children playing at competition and instead of handing off and letting someone else deal with it, she dedicated herself to making each and every one else better.”

Skye smiled. “Have you ever told her any of this?” she asked him.

“No,” he said, “but I will thank her some day. For now, I want to ensure she’s stays out of the Ministry’s grasp and I think we can help each other do that.”

“You know, I’m inclined to believe you,” Skye admitted.

“So, what do you think? Shall we pretend to be a couple for the greater good?” he asked with a grin.

Skye laughed, “Well, if we must. I accept your terms.”

“Excellent,” he beamed.

\---

After a thorough smashing of Wigtown, Skye found herself at the local pub eating a meal with her parents. She was reveling in the win, but knew her father wasn’t so happy.

“Da’, you can’t be mad at me because we won,” Skye said to her father.

“Aye, I think I can lass,” he responded. “You know I hate to lose.”

“But you’re not even playing now,” Skye teased. “Shouldn’t you just be proud that I played well?”

Ethan grumbled but eventually nodded, “You played well, lass, but there’s always room for improvement.”

“Oh Ethan, leave her alone for the night,” her mother said, coming to her defense. “You played great, love,” she added with a smile.

“Thanks, Mum,” she beamed.

“Will you just consider the deal I’m proposing, though?” Ethan asked her.

“I like where I am, Dad,” she answered, “I’m leading the league in goals scored, I was just named assistant captain. Why would I want to leave?”

“Because it’s your birth right, Skye,” Ethan pressed.

Skye shook her head, “It’s just not what I want, for now. Besides, unless Gwenog decides to trade me, I’m locked in for another season at least.”

“Fine, fine,” Ethan said, “I’ll try again next year.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Skye asked, turning to her mother.

“How about Rita Skeeter’s article?” she suggested.

Skye groaned, “Literally anything but that, please,” she begged them.

“Actually we should discuss that, Skye,” her father interjected in a serious tone. “You need to come up with a plan to address the rumours.”

“Which rumours? There were so many in that last one I couldn’t keep track,” she responded.

“The ones about, well, that,” Ethan answered awkwardly.

“Ethan dear, I don’t know if this is the time,” her mother cautioned him.

She sighed, “It’s fine, Mum. Okay, if you must know, Oliver and I have spoken and I guess I should tell you, but we are seeing each other,” she lied. “I haven’t told you up to this point because we didn’t want to make a big deal out of something casual but since Rita Skeeter blew the lid on it, there’s no use now.”

Her parents looked at each other and then her father turned to her with a smile on his face, “Well that’s excellent news. He’s a good lad, young Oliver,” he nodded.

“Yes, he seems like he has a good head on his shoulders,” her mother added.

“I believe that’s all we need to discuss on the matter,” Skye said, and then returned to her meal, eager to avoid her mother’s gaze. She always knew when she was lying, and she guessed this time was no different.

They ate in silence for a moment and then Ethan asked, “So, will this affect the National team?”

Skye laughed, “You’re always so consistent, Da’.”  
  
\--- 


	40. Barnaby's Tale

**CHAPTER 40: Barnaby’s Tale  
**  
 _November 13th, 1997  
Snyde Manor  
  
  
_“Barnaby?” Clara asked incredulously, “Is that really you?”   
  
“Yes it’s me, can’t you tell?” he asked.   
  
“Of course I can,” she answered and then engulfed him in a hug. “I am so glad to see you, Barnaby.”   
  
“I can’t believe you are all here,” he said, beaming. “It’s like we’re back at school.”   
  
“Except the looming war,” said Merula.   
  
“And the Death Eaters chasing Clara,” said Penny.   
  
“And the fact that there are two werewolves in the cellar,” added Chiara.   
  
“And that Ben was missing for two weeks,” finished Clara. “Although, I guess in some ways it is just like school,” she admitted with a half smile, which elicited a collective laugh.   
  
“Speaking of,” said Chiara, who was now on her knees inspecting Ben’s condition, “Do you know what happened to him?”   
  
Barnaby nodded. “I don’t know everything that was done, but I can tell you everything I do know,” he offered.   
  
“Let’s relocate to the drawing room, shall we?” Penny suggested.   
  
Since Ben was still knocked out, Barnaby picked him up and carried him effortlessly into the drawing room. He placed him on the sofa facing the fire and then Chiara and Penny got to work tending to his wounds.   
  
“So, how did you find him?” Clara asked, sitting down beside Barnaby.   
  
“The finding was easy, it was getting him out of there that was hard,” he told her. “I think I should tell you everything from the start.”   
  
Clara nodded, “Tell us everything.”   
  
“Okay, so, as you all know, I have been living in South America for the last six years, working with magical creatures and studying to become a professor,” he said.   
  
“A professor?” Clara asked, “Barnaby that’s incredible.”   
  
He smiled, “Thanks, Clara! The hardest part was learning to speak Spanish and Portuguese, but I’m getting better. I always used to think that creatures and spells would be the same across the world, but it’s not the case!” he explained.   
  
Merula prodded him to stay focused.   
  
“Right,” he nodded, “So I was in Peru for a while, actually Tarapoto, studying nogtails and dugbogs and the research we did landed me an apprenticeship with a professor at Castlebruxo, you know, the wizarding school in Brazil! So, Ismelda and I had been living there this past year so I could work with him and she could study the ancient South American magical cultures. But about a month ago we each received a letter from our families telling us to come home immediately.”   
  
“Your parents are out of Azkaban then?” she asked.   
  
He nodded, “Much to my displeasure. But in their letter they asked me to come as they claimed their health was failing them and to be quite honest, I felt bad, and I didn’t want them to die without me seeing them one last time.”   
  
“I understand the feeling,” Clara told him. “So you came home?”   
  
“Yes, I took a leave of absence and came home, but as soon as I got there, I knew something was up,” he explained. “They were completely fine! They had sent the letter to lure me back and force me to pledge allegiance with the Dark Lord. When I refused, they attempted to curse me.”   
  
“Oh, Barnaby, I’m so sorry,” Clara said.   
  
He shrugged, “It wasn’t surprising, but because it was clear that I wasn’t going to be staying at my home. In fact, if Merula hadn’t of been there to help me, they may have killed me.”  
  
“It was lucky,” Merula acknowledged. “I just convinced his parents that the Dark Lord wouldn’t want any pure blood spilled and that he would come around soon. I believe I said he was tricked by South American wizards or some rubbish like that,” she explained.   
  
“It was brilliant,” he said, “but since I wasn’t welcome there until I came to my senses, I went to the only other place I knew, my uncle Cecil’s house,” he explained.   
  
“You’re living with Cecil Lee?” Chiara said suddenly, a note of panic in her voice.   
  
“Yes I am, well, I was, maybe not anymore,” he told her.   
  
Chiara gave Clara a look that Clara understood immediately. She turned back to Barnaby and asked, “Is your uncle still working with the Werewolf Capture Unit?”   
  
He shook his head, “No, he was moved to a different department after they found out he intentionally let a werewolf go.”   
  
“He let a werewolf go?” Chiara asked him.   
  
“Yes, apparently something happened when he came to Hogwarts to investigate the werewolf attacks and his stance on werewolves changed after that,” he shrugged. “He never told me why.”   
  
Chiara looked relieved which was Clara’s cue to get them back on track. “So, you’re living with your uncle. What happened next?”   
  
“Right,” he said, snapping back in. “My uncle is at odds with my Dad again so he’s not really welcome at their home. In fact, he’s not really welcome anywhere at the moment. But then just this weekend he got a letter asking us both to come to the house because they needed to see us. Cecil was eager to prove that he could be useful but I didn’t really want to go. In the end I was glad I did because that’s how I found out that they were holding Ben captive in the cellar.”   
  
“Your parents had him?” Clara asked,  
  
“Yes. A group of snatchers took him on Halloween,” he explained. “Apparently he bargained with them, saying that since he was an undesirable, wouldn’t he be more valuable alive and taken to the Death Eaters, not the Ministry.”   
  
“That was a risky strategy,” Clara said, “but I admit, a smart one.”   
  
Barnaby nodded, “So the snatchers took him to the closest house they knew which happened to be my family home. My parents have been keeping him in the cellar for two weeks, trying to get information out of him using unspeakable means I am sure but he wouldn’t budge.”   
  
Clara was proud of Ben, but also horrified that they tortured him. “What did they do to him?” she asked, unsure about whether or not she wanted to know.  
  
He shook his head, “I don’t know. But apparently he kept saying he was going to kill Merula Snyde for being a traitor and a Death Eater, which ultimately convinced them that Merula could have nothing to do with you.”   
  
Clara glanced over at Merula who shrugged. “A great cover, even under duress. Maybe we underestimate him too much?” she asked.   
  
Clara laughed, “Apparently,” she agreed. “Go on, Barnaby.”   
  
“My parents didn’t want to summon the Dark Lord until they had information so they finally called for me to come to help them,” he continued. “By that point, Ben was looking no better than he is now. I was mortified, but had to pretend to be unaffected so they wouldn’t think that I knew him or cared about him.” He faced Clara again, “You see, my parents don’t know I helped with the vaults because they didn’t escape Azkaban until a year ago. They have no idea that I know or was friends with any of you,” he explained.   
  
“Better to keep it that way,” Clara admitted, “for now at least.”   
  
He nodded. “So once I saw him, I devised a plan to get him out. My parents had asked Cecil to come because they wanted him to help the Death Eaters find werewolves and Cecil reluctantly agreed to it because he didn’t want to disappoint my father. So at that point, I knew that if I asked Cecil to come back with me tonight, he would.”   
  
“So what happened tonight?” Penny asked. She had tucked a blanket around Ben and joined them.   
  
“My parents asked me to question Ben again tonight and I requested that they leave me alone with him,” he explained. “I think they assumed I would torture him and they were happy about it so they agreed.”  
  
“That’s horrible,” Penny said.   
  
Barnaby nodded. “I knew I couldn’t free him alone without rousing suspicion so I asked if Cecil could stay because the information could be useful for his investigation.”   
  
“Did you think he would help you?” Clara asked.   
  
“I actually have no idea, but I had a plan,” he admitted. “While we were down in the cellar, I cast a non-verbal spell at Ben that caused him to start vomiting. Cecil panicked and opened the cell door to inspect him and then I used the confundus charm to confuse him and make him stumble before sending a stunner at him.”   
  
Penny gasped, “Oh, Barnaby!”   
  
“I know, I didn’t like doing it but I had to,” he shrugged. “Once I stopped Ben from vomiting and then quickly cast a disillusionment charm over him and pulled him from the cell to hide behind a desk. I grabbed his wand and tucked it in my jacket so it looked like he disappeared, and then I fell to the ground myself, causing as much noise as I could to draw my parents down. When they came down, I “woke up”,” he said, using his fingers as air quotes, “and told them that Copper must have pretended to be sick to draw us in and attack us. Fortunately they bought it and then ten minutes later I said I was leaving, snuck back down went back down, grabbed Ben and brought him here,” he finished.   
  
Clara and Merula looked at each other. “That was…” Clara began.   
  
“So brilliant,” Merula finished.   
  
“Barnaby, that’s incredible,” Penny agreed.   
  
Barnaby beamed, “It was the least I could do.”   
  
“Barnaby,” Clara began, “Do your parents think that you had anything to do with it?”   
  
“I’m not sure,” he said, “but I don’t think they would broadcast it if they did. They are still trying to prove themselves to the Dark Lord so revealing that I released a prisoner wouldn’t be a smart move.”   
  
“So what are you going to do now?” Chiara asked him.   
  
“Well,” he started, turning to Merula, “I was hoping maybe I could stay here.”   
  
Merula considered it for a moment and then replied, “Well I don’t see why not, there are twelve rooms after all.”   
  
“Thank you,” Barnaby replied, grinning from ear to ear.   
  
Clara was about to ask him another question and was cut off.   
  
“Am I dead?” came a hoarse voice from the sofa. Ben was stirring slowly.   
  
“Fortunately, no,” Chiara said with a smile, “you’re still stuck with us.”   
  
Ben opened his eyes looked around. “Where am I?” he asked.   
  
Clara and Merula looked at each other, concerned. “You’re safe, Ben. You’re back at the Manor,” Merula explained.   
  
“How did I get here?”   
  
“Barnaby saved you,” Penny explained.   
  
“That’s impossible, Barnaby’s in Peru,” Ben said, dismissing the notion.   
  
“No, Ben, I’m right here,” Barnaby said, waving at him.   
  
“Oh, that makes more sense,” Ben conceded, closing his eyes. Suddenly, Ben shot upright and started checking his mouth frantically.   
  
“Ben, what are you doing?” Penny implored.   
  
Ben wasn;t listening. Finally, he lay back down.   
  
“Ben, what the hell was that?” Clara said. 

“I just had to make sure,” he whispered.   
  
“What were you making sure of?” Merula questioned him.   
  
“That I still have the mandrake leaf in my mouth,” he smiled, before closing his eyes and drifting odd once more.   
  
Penny shook her head, “Unbelievable. Gone for two weeks, potentially tortured, probably starved, and the animagus potion is the only thing he’s thinking about.”   
  
“Well, at least we know he’s fine,” Clara admitted with a laugh.   
  
“Should we leave him here for the night?” Penny asked Chiara.   
  
“We should bring him up to his bed,” Chiara said, “and I can check on him through the night.”   
  
Clara nodded and then they raised their wands in unison to float him slowly up the stairs, eventually landing him in his bed. Chiara stayed to tend to him and Penny headed back downstairs to check the Wolfsbane potion that was still simmering in the cauldron. Barnaby, Merula and Clara went back to the drawing room to catch up.   
  
After exchanging stories from the last couple years, Clara had a couple more questions for him.   
  
“Barnaby, how did you know to come here?" she asked.   
  
"Merula told me the address when she came to see me at Cecil's," he explained. "Must have been last week, right?"   
  
Merula nodded.   
  
"And if you’re staying here, where is Ismelda?” she asked tentatively. She and Ismelda never really got along, but Clara had grown to appreciate her in their last year at Hogwarts, especially when she saw how happy she and Barnaby were.   
  
At the mention of her name Barnaby turned his gaze to the fire. “I honestly have no idea where she is, Clara,” he admitted. “I didn’t want her to go to her parents, but she decided to go anyway.”   
  
“Was her sister home?” Merula asked seriously.   
  
“I think so,” Barnaby told them.   
  
Clara glanced between them. “You don’t think they would have done anything to her, do you?”   
  
“It’s not what they would do to her that I’m worried about, it’s what they might make her do,” Merula replied. “So you haven’t heard from her at all?”   
  
Barnaby shook his head. “We were supposed to meet after the first night, but she didn’t come. I went back every night since, and still, she didn’t come,” he told them.   
  
“Tell me where,” Merula demanded. “I will wait for her.”   
  
“I’ll come with you,” Clara said.   
  
Both Barnaby and Merula protested. “Absolutely not,” Merula said. “And before you say anything I need you to use your bloody brain.”   
  
Clara felt silly for requesting it, but she was tired of sitting around. “Okay, fine,” she said, “but you need to do something for me.”   
  
“And what’s that?” she asked.   
  
“Go check on her,” she said simply.   
  
Merula nodded. “I’ll be back tonight, hopefully with some information,” she told them and then got up to leave. “Don’t let her leave the house, Barnaby. I mean it,” she added, giving Clara a look.   
  
After she left Barnaby turned to Clara, "Why can't you leave the house, Clara?" he asked.   
  
"I'm a fugitive," she explained, "the Ministry is after me."   
  
"That can't be true," he stated, "why would they be after you?"   
  
"A lot has changed since you've been gone," she told him, "and not for the better."   
  
He thought about her answer for a moment and then asked softly, “Do you think there’s really going to be a war, Clara?”   
  
Clara sighed and squeezed his hand, “I think it’s already begun, Barnaby.”   
  
“Well, then I guess we better get ready to fight,” he stated, squeezing her hand in return.   
  
\---  
  



	41. Babbity Ben

**CHAPTER 41: Babbity Ben**   
  
_November 14th, 1997  
Snyde Manor   
  
_  
“Okay, that’s the last dose here,” Penny said, handing Chiara a smoking goblet. “James, Davie, come here,” she called to the boys.   
  
The young men clambered into the cellar to grab their potions. “Bottoms up,” Chiara said, nodding to them. They all grimaced as they downed their portions.   
  
“Ugh, I swear that gets worse every time,” James commented.   
  
“And you’re sure we can’t add sugar to it, Penny?” Davie asked.   
  
“Positive,” she said, “if you want it to work, you have to deal with the taste as is.”   
  
“Are you joining us tonight, Clara?” James asked her.   
  
“That’s the plan,” she smiled. “But if it’s okay with all of you, I would like to have a very long nap.”   
  
“We’ll do our best,” Chiara assured her.   
  
“Excellent. Now we need to go help Ben and make sure he’s following the steps properly,” Clara said before heading up the stairs. Penny and Chiara followed her up the stairs and into the drawing room where Ben and Merula were sitting.   
  
“Oh good,” he said, “there you are. Okay, I think the next step is placing the mixture in a quiet, dark place and then leaving it alone until the next electrical storm.” He looked up at Clara, “I think that might be the hardest part, not checking in on it.”   
  
“That’s the hardest part?” Clara questioned him. “You kept a mandrake leaf in your mouth for an entire month while you were being tortured and questioned for two weeks in a Death Eater hideout.”  
  
“Well, yeah,” he shrugged, “I had a singular focus on the leaf. Now I have to concentrate on everything BUT the potion. See the difference?”   
  
Clara sighed and shook her head, “You’re ridiculous, but regardless, before you tuck it away let’s go through the checklist, shall we?”   
  
Ben nodded. "I think we have it all but another check won't hurt."  
  
“Crystal phial?” Clara asked.   
  
“Check.”   
  
“Mandrake leaf?”   
  
“Got it.”   
  
“A strand of your own hair?” asked Penny.   
  
“Done.”   
  
“Silver teaspoon unsoiled dew?”   
  
“Yes,” Ben said, “and we’re sure it was not touched by sunlight or human feet?”   
  
“Yes,” answered Merula. “I used multiple protection charms over the area.”   
  
“Perfect,” said Clara, “and the last item is the chrysalis of a Death’s-head Hawk Moth. Was that added?”   
  
Ben nodded. “Chiara grabbed it for me while you were out of commission.”   
  
“Then I think we are all set, Ben. Where would you recommend we hide it, Merula?” she asked, turning to face her.   
  
“I’ve got the spot. Ben, come with me, I will show you so you know where to find it,” she said.   
  
“Keep it out of the cellar, just in case,” Chiara advised them.   
  
Merula nodded and then stepped out with Ben.   
  
Chiara looked over at Clara, “What do you think he’ll turn into?” she wondered.   
  
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot, I must admit,” Clara chuckled. “When I was going through the process myself I didn’t really think about it, I just wanted to improve my chances of finding the vaults and my brother.”   
  
“Do you ever wonder why you became a dog?” Chiara asked her.   
  
“It’s pretty easy to figure out,” Penny chimed in.   
  
“Oh?” asked Clara.  
  
“You became a dog because dogs are loyal and protect their people,” Penny explained.  
  
Clara smiled, “Well, that’s a lovely explanation.”   
  
“So, what do you think Ben will be then?” Chiara asked Penny.   
  
“Well, if I had to be honest,” Penny began, but just then Ben and Merula reappeared.   
  
“What are we talking about?” Ben asked.   
  
“Why Clara became a dog,” Chiara explained.   
  
“Oh that’s easy, because she’s loyal,” said Merula casually.   
  
“So what do you think I will be?” Ben asked Merula.  
  
“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” Merula said with a smirk.   
  
“What’s the supposed to mean?” he demanded. “You think it’s going to be something bad?”   
  
“Oh calm down, Ben,” Penny said. “It doesn’t matter what you become. Anyway, you need to focus on the incantations ‘ _Amato Animo Animato Animagus’_.”   
  
“Yes, yes,” he waved her off. “I have to place the tip of my wand to my heart and keep repeating it, every dusk and every dawn.”   
  
“Good,” Penny said. “Now, I’m going to check on the last few things for tonight. Chiara, can you come with me?”   
  
Chiara nodded and followed her out into the corridor.   
  
“So, what do you think I’ll be?” Ben asked Merula.   
  
“Ben, if you ask me that again I will start praying every day that you become a dung beetle. Don’t make me manifest my dreams,” she said firmly.   
  
Ben threw up his arms. “Fine!” he said, “I’m going to go do some research and try not to think about the potion.” He got up and left the room.   
  
Clara and Merula sat in silence for a moment before Merula turned to her. “So what do you think he’ll be?” Merula asked her.   
  
Clara laughed. “I honestly don’t know, but I’ll give you a galleon if it’s a dung beetle.”   
  
“Deal.”   
  
\---  
  
 _November 23 rd, 1997  
Snyde Manor  
  
_  
Clara sat by the fire, re-reading the letter from Dumbledore. It had only been five months since his death, but so much had changed since then. Penny had explained to her that things were changing even before his death, but Dumbledore had been the only thing stopping Voldemort’s open rule of the wizarding world. Now she was reduced to working in the shadows, trying to help people while ensuring she stay hidden. She was becoming more and more restless as the days passed and she was starting to wonder when she would ever be allowed to leave the house.   
  
The full moon had passed and the Wolfsbane potion worked perfectly. Clara spent the evening playfully sparring with her werewolf counterparts and ensuring that they stay fixated on her, not the witches and wizards sleeping soundly upstairs.   
  
Having Barnaby back in their lives was wonderful, and she was sure that Ben was thankful to have another wizard in the house. However, there was a looming threat of Ismelda reappearing, which she wasn’t looking forward to as much. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Ismelda, she was just a lot more rigid in her values than the rest of her friends. She didn’t approve of Clara’s ”lifestyle”, something she had made clear on numerous occasions. She hoped that as the years passed Barnaby’s influence would change her mind, but whether or not it had, she was anxious about finding out.   
  
There was the other concern, that perhaps Ismelda had turned her back on them and rejoined her family. Clara knew the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her parents and the neglect in favour of her sister. However, Ismelda’s values were deep-rooted and not just because of the familial influence.   
  
She hoped that Merula would try to convince her to work with her, mostly so she could keep tabs on Ismelda, but also so Merula wouldn’t be alone. However, she knew better than to ask at this point. Merula would tell her when the time was right.   
  
She tucked the letter back into her pocket and then pulled the latest copy of the Sunday Prophet to her lap, flipping to the quidditch scores without a glance at the cover. She saw that the Harpies had notched another win, this time against Appleby Arrows. Skye played well again, the return of Wilda Griffiths was serving the Harpies well it seemed. Appleby was so close that she could have easily gone and not been seen, but Merula would have killed her. Actually at this point, Skye may have killed her.   
  
She sighed and turned the pages back, revealing a headline that made Clara freeze.  
  
  
 ** _In Their Own Words: How Oliver Wood Fell in Love With Skye Parkin  
by Rita Skeeter  
  
  
_**“What the bloody hell is this?” she asked out loud and then started to read it.   
  
  
_“I wasn’t looking for love, but there she was, standing across the pitch,” Oliver reminisced fondly. “I always had a crush on her at school, but this time, she was looking back.”  
  
Skye Parkin was sixteen when Oliver Wood joined the team as an eager thirteen year old. His play earned him a spot, but it would be years before the young man could earn her heart. They had seen each other through the years on either sides of the pitch, each of them dabbling in dating, but both would admit that their first love was quidditch. However, as the years went by, they both realized that they were looking for something deeper, and then, as fate would have it, they reconnected as members of the Scottish National Team.   
  
“It started with quidditch talk and then it became something more,” said Skye via correspondence. “We both realized that we were looking for something more and finally, we had found kindred spirits.”   
  
  
_She skipped ahead a few paragraphs, reading the last sentence of the article. _  
  
  
Finally, after weeks of keeping it a secret, they are making it official. Watch out, there’s a new power couple in the British and Irish Quidditch League!  
  
  
_ Clara shook her head trying to wrap her mind around what she had just read. She glanced down at the bottom and saw a picture of the two of them; Oliver was looking down at her fondly while Skye intertwined her arm with his. It didn’t make any sense. She had just spent the night with her and she didn’t mention any of this. Even if it were a ruse, as she hoped, why wouldn’t she tell her about it. It was hard to even look at the picture of them without feeling nauseous.   
  
Luckily, Ben appeared at the doorway and shifted her attention.   
  
“Clara,” he said, bursting with excitement. “It’s time.”   
  
“What are you talking about it?” she said, still fuming over the article.   
  
“Have you looked outside?” he asked her, “It’s starting to storm and it looks like it might be electrical storm!”   
  
“The potion!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “Okay, let’s go get Penny and then we have to wait to make sure we see a lightning bolt flash across the sky.”   
  
“But isn’t just the fact that it’s storming enough?” he pleaded.   
  
“Do you want to risk that and look at the potion before it’s ready?” she questioned him. “Because if you do, we’ll have to start all over.”   
  
“Fine, I’ll go get Penny. You keep watching the storm,” he directed and then sprinted out of the room.   
  
_You’d think it was Christmas morning,_ she thought, but then immediately felt guilty. She should diminish his excitement, because it was indeed a thrilling experience, but she couldn’t help but worry about it. Ben, while extremely skilled in Charms, was never particularly good at transfiguration spells. He held his own and improved through his work as a curse-breaker, but he still lacked confidence with complex spells. Recalling her own transfiguration and how surprised and then elated she was to see the shape of a dog appear in her mind, she wondered if Ben would be able to will himself to accept the creature he was going to turn into when it appeared before him.   
  
Fortunately, or unfortunately depending who you asked that day, she wouldn’t have to wait long because as soon as Penny and Ben returned to the drawing room, a huge bolt of lightning seared across the sky.   
  
“Yes!” Ben yelled. “Okay, come with me to Merula’s bedroom.”   
  
“That’s where you hid it?” Clara asked, bemused.   
  
“Yes, she assumed correctly that I wouldn’t dream of stepping foot in there unless I absolutely had to.”   
  
“Brilliant!” Penny agreed.   
  
They snuck into the room and Ben ushered them towards the closet but then paused before opening it.  
  
“What’s wrong?” asked Penny.   
  
“I just want to make absolutely sure that the potion worked, so give it another ten seconds,” he explained. Finally, he opened the door and reached inside to grab the phial which had turned a blood-red. He looked back at them and said, “Okay, here goes.”   
  
“Wait,” Clara said, grabbing his wrist. “Remember the steps. Place your wand tip against your heart and then recite the incantation.”   
  
“ _Amato Animo Animato Animagus,_ ” Penny reminded him.   
  
“Then you can drink the potion,” Clara reminded him. “It’s going to feel very painful, like a hot, fiery pain, but don’t give into it. Keep breathing through the pain. You’ll eventually feel an intense double heartbeat.”   
  
“Okay, I got it,” he said eagerly, bringing his wand to his chest. Clara stopped him once more.   
  
“One more thing. After you feel the heartbeat you will see the shape of the creature appear before you. You can’t run away from it, you have to accept it no matter what,” she said seriously. “If you are scared of it, or if you try to change it, or anything, that’s when bad things happen.”  
  
“Even if it’s not what I want? Or a useless creature?” he asked.   
  
“Even then. Remember the steps we read together, ‘ _You must show no fear. It is too late now, to escape the change you have willed_ ’. There’s no going back, Ben, so you need to make sure you want this, no matter what you change into,” she stated firmly.   
  
Ben was silent for a moment. He looked at the potion, back at his friends, and then back to the potion again. Then he looked up with a determined expression covering his face. “I want this, no matter what,” he said calmly.   
  
“Okay,” Clara said, “Then let’s get this done.”   
  
Ben brought the tip of his wand to his chest and said clearly, “ _Amato Animo Animato Animagus.”_ He then nodded at the both of them and then brought the phial to his mouth, tipping it up to drain the bottle in one gulp. He flinched and grabbed onto the bedpost beside him.   
  
“Breathe, Ben,” Penny said trying to soothe him. “Keep breathing, in and out, in and out.”   
  
Ben’s eyes were closed but Clara saw him stiffen for a moment and then relax.   
  
Clara knew the shape of the animal was appearing in his mind. “Okay, Ben, think about the creature as hard as you can ” Clara instructed him, “don’t fight it!”   
  
And then all of sudden, Ben was no longer standing before him. Instead, they looked down and saw a grey hare sitting back on its haunches, his eyes shifting around the room.   
  
“Oh my goodness, Clara,” Penny said, a grin spreading across her face. “Ben is Babbity Rabbity.”   
  
Clara burst out laughing, “And I thought nothing could be funnier that Ben turning into a dung beetle. But this? Oh, this is so much better.”   
  
They kept laughing as they watched Ben bound across the room, jumping from the floor to the bed and then a quite hilarious attempt at jumping onto the wardrobe which left him rolling on the floor. Finally, Clara pushed his wand back to him and told him to picture his human self as clearly as he could. After a few moments, Ben returned to his human form.   
  
“That was bloody brilliant,” he beamed.   
  
“How did it feel, Babbity?” Penny asked, unable to contain herself.   
  
“Babbity?” he asked, puzzled.   
  
“Babbity Rabbity and the Cackling Stump,” Clara explained, making Penny just about lose it. “It’s an old tale that our parents would tell us when we were young. In the story the old washerwoman, Babbity, was an animagus and she would transform into a rabbit, just like you.”   
  
“Oh, I get it now,” Ben said. Even he laughed a bit. “It’s a good one, Pen, but I have to admit, I’m pretty happy with the results,” he smiled again.  
  
“Now, Ben, you will have to keep practicing with your wand close by. Eventually you will be able to do it without but remember, it’s not going to happen over night. So when you transform, make sure you know where your wand is so you can change back,” she explained.   
  
“Got it,” he said, “I’m going to go show the guys.” And then he sprinted off.   
  
Penny waited a moment and then couldn’t help herself, “Babbity Ben. That will never not be funny to me,” she said with a huge grin.  
  
Clara laughed too, “Oh Babbity Ben, wait til Merula finds out,” she grinned back.   
  
\---  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahaha Babbity Ben. 
> 
> This actually came to me about 2 minutes before I finished the chapter. I hadn't decided what Ben would be. I thought maybe a horse because it would be very funny to me that there would be a horse just hanging out in Merula's bedroom. A bird could have been good so he could fight his demons with Talbott. But then I also thought about making him a ferret and have it just be a terrible experience (I don't like ferrets because they are way too floppy and bite). So I finally landed on a hare because it's not super menacing but can also be useful for what his purpose was. It then made me think of ol' Babs and her cackling stump which was a fun addition to it all, 
> 
> Also this is doubly funny for me because my eldest brother's name is Ben and it's similar to a nickname he had for me growing up. It didn't help my self-confidence issues, that's all I'll say. 
> 
> I actually did work these past few days for my (gasp) real job, which explains my mini-absence but I have some more plot moving chapters in the works so stay tuned!
> 
> Cheers!


	42. The Tailor

**CHAPTER 42: The Tailor  
** _  
November 27 th, 1997  
Portree, Scotland  
  
  
_“Oi,” grunted Ethan, “just because the two of you are sweet on each other, doesn’t mean you take it easy. Leave it off the pitch.”   
  
Skye rolled her eyes. When she and Oliver decided to pretend to be in a relationship neither of them thought about how uncomfortable practices may be now. Especially considering their manager was Skye’s father.   
  
“I don’t go easy on anyone, Da’,” she said, “you should know that by now.”   
  
“Aye,” he agreed, “but Wood needs to be tested, so pummel him will ya?”  
  
“No need to ask me twice,” she stated and flew off to rejoin the drill. On her next attempt she sent a shot directly through the hoop, between Oliver’s outstretched arms. “Happy?” she asked, turning back to her father.   
  
“Much better,” he said, nodding but then turned to the hoops. “Oi, Wood! We need better from you if you want to dress tomorrow,” he yelled.   
  
Skye chuckled. _Poor Oliver,_ she thought.   
  
Practice went by without another mention of their alleged relationship, something Skye was truly grateful for. They had organized a game against the Irish team for the following day in order to prepare for the upcoming tournament. However, given Ireland’s status as the reigning Quidditch World Champion, they would only play them on their home soil, though no one knew which site they chose yet.   
  
“Alright team, we have to sort out our uniforms today for the friendly tomorrow. The following athletes need to see the tailor after practice,” Ethan said, pointing to the board. Skye glanced at it and saw her name amongst the rest. “As discussed earlier all fourteen of you will be playing tomorrow so if you’re taken out of the game I don’t want to hear any complaining.”   
  
There was a collective groan. Professional quidditch players did not like being taken out of games.   
  
“I don’t want to hear it,” Ethan continued. “We need to figure out our top seven and the only way to do that is see you in action.”   
  
The grumbling ceased.   
  
“Good. Now to answer your earlier question Mackenzie, we will be travelling to Kenmare for the game,” Ethan continued. “The Krestels have been generous enough to host us at their facilities and we will be taking the portkey first thing in the morning. When we arrive we will have a short practice to tune up and go over the game plan. I suspect Ireland will not be dressing their top seven but their reserves are likely to wipe us off the pitch if we don’t take them seriously.”   
  
“I heard their reserves beat the English last week,” said one of the reserve chasers that Skye could never remember.   
  
“Aye, they did,” Ethan nodded, “and I’ll be damned if we’re no better than the English laddie.”   
  
There was a murmur of agreement. There was no love lost between the English and the Scottish sides and Ethan loved to remind them of that.   
  
“Alright, that’s enough for one day,” he continued. “You lot head over to the tailor for your fitting and the rest of ya, I’ll see you in the morning.”   
  
Skye reluctantly tucked her quidditch gear into her locker and then proceeded into the secondary room the Portree officials had reserved for them. The tailor had set up shop in there and navy blue robes were hanging all over the room.   
  
“I added the team tartan on the inside of the robes for this year,” the tailor explained to one of her teammates who was currently being fitted. “And just as you requested, Gordon, I left an extra inch on the socks.” Skye thought she recognized his voice, but she didn’t clue in until he turned to face her.   
  
“And what can I do for you, Skye Parkin,” he beamed, a very familiar smile spreading across his face. He had aged well, though that didn’t shock her.  
  
“I see you finally ditched the scarf, Andre,” she smiled. “Could I interest you in a green one?”   
  
“Ha!” he exclaimed and opened his outer coat to reveal a brilliant purple pin. “I never leave the house without it.”   
  
“It’s so lovely to see you my friend,” she said. “Since when did you start working for the team?”   
  
“Started a few months ago,” he answered. “Your father saw a design I worked on for Portree and he liked it and then enlisted my help for these gorgeous robes. See here,” he said, pointing to the inside of the robe. “The tartan was my idea, something that sets us apart and honours our heritage. And this red strip on socks?” he added, showing Skye a bold red stripe running around the top of the socks, “it ties back to the lion on our crest you see.”   
  
“Andre, these are amazing,” she told him. “I can’t say I ever considered what we were wearing on the pitch, but just looking at them makes me excited to be a Scot on the pitch.”   
  
He beamed. “That was the intention,” he said. “One moment Skye,” he turned back to Gordon, their reserve seeker. “You are good to go, Gordon.” Gordon nodded and then headed out the door; Andre followed him and shut it behind him.   
  
“Okay, Skye, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” he said quietly.   
  
Skye suddenly got nervous. She and Andre became close friends through Rath, but they hadn’t seen each much since Hogwarts, only when he came up to Wales to visit Erika.   
  
“And what would that be?” she asked him.   
  
“I heard you saved Clara’s life last month,” he said, “Please tell me everything.”   
  
Skye’s anxiety faded, but only just. “How did you hear about that?”   
  
“I spoke with Penny recently,” he told her.   
  
“Well, her information wasn’t correct. Clara saved me,” she admitted. “Honestly the amount of times I’ve had to correct that story,” she laughed.   
  
Andre smiled, “Well, regardless, it must have been nice to see her. I can’t remember the last time I did,” he confessed to her.   
  
“A common sentiment,” she told him. “She was gone for so long.”   
  
“And you, have you seen Clara lately?” he asked her.   
  
“A saw her at Bill Weasley’s wedding and then again at the game in Wimbourne,” she said, unsure if she should be completely honest with him.   
  
Andre gave her a look, “I always wondered…” he began.  
  
“What was that?” she pushed back.   
  
“She was different after you left,” he said quickly. “Rowan’s death shook us all, Clara most of all. I watched her try and manage the quidditch team and do what she did that year… it was remarkable for one thing, but she couldn't hide the fact that she was so terribly lonely.”   
  
“Lonely?” she asked. Why had Clara never told her any of this, she wondered.   
  
“Half the time we didn’t know where she was,” he explained. “She barely ate meals in the Great Hall, only during the feasts, and even then she barely stayed for all of them.”   
  
“She didn’t break the vault alone though, did she?” Skye asked.   
  
“No, she asked for help when she needed it,” he admitted, “but when we weren’t working on that she was hard to find."  
  
"Where did she go?" Skye asked, desperate to know more.   
  
"We never really knew," he shrugged. "She would just reappear suddenly with no mention of where she had gone."   
  
Skye stayed silent, letting Andre’s words was over her. “I had no idea how hard it was for her,” she admitted.   
  
"You know, it was as if she lost two best friends that year, Skye. We all thought it, and I think Penny may have actually said it,” he told her. "And we missed you too, just so you know," he added with a small smile.   
  
Skye's eyes started to water. She blinked away the tears and tried to focus on the pins in her sleeve.   
  
"I’m not telling you this to make you feel badly, Skye, my apologies if I have done so,” Andre backpedaled.   
  
“Oh no, you have no reason to apologize,” she said. "I always regretted the way I left. I should have come back to see all of you more."   
  
“I just wonder how she’s feeling now,” he said, “given that she’s a fugitive and all.”   
  
“A load of bollocks,” Skye said.   
  
Andre gave her a sad smile. “Depends who you ask though, right?”   
  
Skye nodded. “I suppose you are right about that.”   
  
There was some chatter in the corridor and they glanced over at the door. Andre got up and grabbed a set of robes, “Put this on so we can keep talking,” he said.  
  
Skye pulled the robes over her head and Andre started prodding her with pins.  
  
“I’m going to be very vulnerable with you, but some days I wonder what I’m doing,” he said, his voice muffled by the pins in his mouth.  
  
Skye sighed. “You’re not alone there, Andre. I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”   
  
“I love my job, and I’m thankful for it,” he said, but then added in a whisper, “it keeps me away from suspicion, if you know what I mean.”   
  
Skye nodded, “Aye, I do.”  
  
Andre stepped back for a moment and examined the robes he was pinning. “You know I spoke with Rath last week. She told me that you had a run in with the Death Eaters in Wales as well.”   
  
“I did,” she answered, “over that stupid article Rita Skeeter wrote.”   
  
Andre laughed, “The one claiming you were dating four people at once? Or the one about you and Oliver?”   
  
Skye rolled her eyes, “The former.”   
  
“So what about you and Oliver?” he asked.   
  
She gave him a look. “Completely fake.”   
  
“I knew it,” he said with a smile. “But why the lies?”   
  
“Oliver is dating someone else, someone who would be in danger or put him in danger if anyone found out,” she explained, “and I, well, I was tired of Skeeter’s lies about me.”   
  
Andre nodded, “It’s brave, what you’re doing for Oliver.”   
  
Skye shrugged, “I think it was rather selfish of me to be honest,” she admitted.   
  
“You Gryffindors are all the same you know,” Andre joked. “Incredibly brave to the point of stupidity sometimes.”   
  
“And you Ravenclaws are too smart for your own good at times,” she shot back with a smile.   
  
Andre smiled and finished pinning up her robes. “I’ve missed you, Syke Parkin,” he said.   
  
“And I have missed you, my friend,” she responded.   
  
“You’re all set now,” he told her. Skye shrugged the robes off of her back. “Can I come visit you in Wales?”   
  
Skye nodded, “Of course, Andre. You’re welcome any time.”   
  
“Excellent. I’m going to hold you to that,” he said with another huge smile. **  
  
**Skye turned to leave and then stopped, "I know where Clara is," she said to him.  
  
"You do?" he asked her, stunned.   
  
"If you want to find her, ask Penny," she said, "I cannot tell you where she is, and I don't even know how to explain most of it. But I do know that the more people know, the more danger she is in."   
  
"Is she safe?" he pressed her.   
  
"For now. But nothing is safe really."   
  
"No, you're right," he admitted. "But tell me one thing, are you prepared to fight for her?"   
  
"Why do you think I'm telling you how to find her?" she said firmly. "I will do everything I can to help her."   
  
Andre smiled and pulled a chain out of his coat pocket. At the end of it, she saw a silver ring similar to the one Clara wore on her finger.   
  
"I've been keeping this close to my heart for years, I think it's time to put it back on," he said.   
  
"Clara has that ring too," she commented. "What is it?"   
  
"It's how we used to communicate," he explained.   
  
"The Circle of Khanna?" she asked.   
  
He nodded. "It was a brilliant idea. Ben managed to charm the lot of them, Clara's being the master ring. All she would have to do is say the incantation and where she wanted us to meet and then the rings would burn and the writing on the inside of the rings would change."   
  
"That is brilliant," Skye remarked, examining the ring. "Do you think she will use them again?"   
  
"I'm not sure," he admitted, "I believe there are a few in the group that she may not want to contact."   
  
"Oh?" Skye asked. "Did someone betray her?"   
  
Andre gave her a look, "I think it's best that I leave it at that for now."   
  
Skye was frustrated, "Andre, if there's something I should know, that can help?"   
  
Andre shook his head, "Not here. I'll come see you soon, okay?"   
  
Skye sighed, "If you insist on leaving me in suspense, then I insist you come visit me as soon as you can," she stated.   
  
"Agreed," Andre said, patting her arm. "I'll come as soon as I can."   
  
Skye nodded and then left.   
  
_They were such a tight group, who could have betrayed_ _Clara?_ she wondered as she walked out. _What is Andre not telling me?_  
 **  
**\---  
  



	43. The Messenger

**CHAPTER 43: The Messenger  
**  
  
 _November 29 th, 1997  
Kenmare, Ireland  
_  
  
Skye walked out of the changing room feeling much better after having had a warm shower. Between the physical play of the Irish players and the fact that she likely aggravated the injury to her ribs, she was hoping she could slip off to her room instead of socializing with the team. Unfortunately, her father had much different ideas.   
  
“Ah Skye, there you are,” he said. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”   
  
“Sorry, Da’, I think I’m going to head up to bed,” she protested.   
  
“Nonsense, c’mere lass,” he pressed her. “This is Mr. Dunstan, an official with the Kenmare Krestels and a close personal friend.”   
  
“Ah, Miss Parkin,” Mr. Dunstan said, reaching out his hand to her. He was a cheery fellow, she noticed, although the man with him seemed less so.   
  
She grasped his outstretched hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dunstan,” she stated.   
  
“The pleasure is all mine,” he said with a smile. “Oh how rude of me. Mr. Parkin, Miss Parkin, this is Mr. O’Connor, one of our biggest sponsors.”   
  
_O’Connor,_ Skye thought, _it couldn’t be…_  
  
Mr. O’Connor reached out his hand to her father, “Ethan Parkin, I never thought I’d have the honour of meeting you,” he said. “Despite the fact that your Wanderers out play our side every time.”   
  
“I hear that you are the one to thank for setting up this match, so the honour should be mine,” Ethan said, clasping his hand, “but as for the other part, I can’t apologize for the at!” he laughed.   
  
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Mr. O’Connor said, a small smile spread across his face.   
  
Skye froze; that was Clara’s smile, the same one she thought of every morning and night.   
  
Suddenly her father spoke, drawing her attention back to the conversation. “Mr. O’Connor, may I present my daughter, Skye,” Ethan continued, gesturing to her.   
  
“Ah, Miss Parkin,” he said, turning to her. He had an indiscernible look on his face. “I think you went to school with my daughter, Clara.”   
  
Skye’s body jerked involuntarily. Clara’s father was standing right in front of her, someone she had only heard about in stories. He looked so much like her and yet, there was something about him that she couldn’t quite place, the same quality she noticed in Jacob. “Yes,” she said, “we were in the same year. Same house actually and we won two Quidditch cups together.”   
  
“Ah yes, that makes sense,” he answered.   
  
“We tried to get Clara to play for us, you know,” Mr. Dunstan said to Skye, “but she had other options.”   
  
“I heard about that,” Skye replied.   
  
“Have you heard from my daughter lately, Miss Parkin?” Mr. O’Connor asked her.   
  
Skye’s father looked at her intently. She knew better than to tell the truth right now. “No I haven’t. Not since school, really,” she lied.   
  
Mr. O’Connor eyed her carefully. “I only asked because I heard she was almost apprehended at a game recently,” he added.   
  
“Was she?” Ethan asked.   
  
“I heard something like that,” Skye answered, “but no, I haven’t seen her.”   
  
Mr. O’Connor nodded. “Well, I do hope we can chat tomorrow, but I’m afraid I must be off. Pleasure to meet both of you,” he stated before taking his leave.   
  
“How about a drink, Ethan?” Mr. Dunstan asked.   
  
“Absolutely,” Ethan answered.   
  
“Skye?” Mr. Dunstan asked her.   
  
“None for me, Mr. Dunstan, I need some rest,” Skye answered, “but I do appreciate it.” Good night Da’,” she added.   
  
“Sleep well, lass,” Ethan said and then the two of them walked off, presumably to the pub,   
  
Skye took a deep breath of the night air and decided a quick walk around the inn would do her well. Of all the people she expected to meet this weekend, Clara’s father was not one of them. Even the short interaction she had with him she could see the similarities between the two of them. He was an impressive figure to be sure, and she had to admit that he intimidated her. She wasn’t scared of him necessarily, she just felt uneasy like he knew she had lied to him. She wished she could talk to Clara right now, but trying to contact her would be dangerous for both of them.   
  
She took her lap around the inn and as she turned the corner, she saw Mr. O’Connor standing there. He seemed to be waiting for someone, and Skye had a suspicion that he was waiting for her.   
  
“Miss Parkin,” he said as she approached, “I was hoping to have a quick word away from the others. Mr. Dunstan, though a good man, isn’t known for being tight-lipped.”   
  
Skye nodded, “What can I help you with Mr. O’Connor?”   
  
“Please, call me Aidan,” he said. “I know you are friends with my daughter, Skye. And I have a feeling you have seen her recently.”   
  
“I’m sorry, sir, I haven’t seen her,” Skye said firmly.   
  
He gave her another calculated look, “I just want to know if she is alright,” he said to her. Much to her surprise, he looked as though he was near tears. “I haven’t seen her in months and the last time she came home it did not end well.”   
  
“She went home?” Skye asked, curious.   
  
“Yes,” he answered. “My daughter hasn’t had an easy life, contrary to what people may think.”  
  
“Honestly, Mr. O’Connor, Aidan,” she corrected herself, “I don’t think anyone that knows Clara would categorize her life as easy.”   
  
“Indeed, I suppose these days they wouldn’t,” he admitted. “There was a time where my children lived a happy, carefree childhood. But after Jacob went missing, things changed. My wife took it very hard and unfortunately, Clara suffered for it.”   
  
Skye nodded with him, unsure of what to say.   
  
Mr. O’Connor continued, “And then when he died, Clara’s mother blamed her for it.”   
  
“And what do you think? Do you blame her?” Skye asked, rather harshly.   
  
Mr. O’Connor stared at her for moment.   
  
“I’m sorry, sir, that was a uncalled for,” she backpedaled.   
  
“No, it was justified,” he admitted. “I haven’t been a very good father the past few years. I do not blame her for Jacob’s death, not in the slightest, I want to make that very clear. Jacob was always… let’s say single minded.” He smiled softly, “He had a talent for getting up to no good and had a tendency of dragging Clara with him. As a result, she was always left to pick up the pieces or finish the tasks when Jacob got bored with them. She would have done anything to help him, and did, in the end.”   
  
Skye laughed, “She’s still like that,” she said, without thinking.   
  
He looked at her, pleading her with his eyes. “I just want to know if she’s alive, Skye.”   
  
Skye softened, “She is alive. As far as I know,” she admitted.   
  
“If you see her, can you give her this?” he asked her, handing her a tightly wound scroll. "My daughter hasn't mentioned many names of schoolmates, but given that I was a huge fan of your father's, your name struck a chord with me. I don't know if I will have another chance to get the letter to her."   
  
Skye was stunned. “I, I’m not sure if I will see her,” she answered.   
  
“But can you get it to someone who could?” he pressed her. “Another friend maybe? Someone trustworthy?”   
  
“I will try,” she told him, “I really will try to give it to her.”   
  
He nodded and placed the letter in her hand. He then placed a tentative hand on her arm, “I hope I will see you again. Goodbye, Skye.”   
  
“Goodbye, Aidan,” she replied, and then watched him walk away. She tucked the letter in her coat and then hurried into the inn.   
  
“Who was that down there?” came a voice from the top of the stairs. Oliver walked down to join her in the lobby.   
  
“A Kenmare sponsor, trying to lure me away from Holyhead,” she lied, taking a seat by the fire that was crackling in the grate. Though she knew where Oliver’s loyalties were, she decided to keep this interaction a secret. She felt that only Clara should know about this. “Not the first time that’s happened,” she added.   
  
“He looked very familiar, don’t you think?”   
  
“Aye, but then again, I find a lot of Irishmen have the same look about them,” she joked.   
  
Oliver laughed, “I suppose they probably say the same about us.”   
  
“You played well today, Wood,” she said, trying to change the subject. “But we need to work on your angles on the break next.”   
  
“I was thinking that too,” he agreed. “Fancy a session in the morning?”   
  
“Aye, that could do me some good actually,” Skye had to admit. “Shall we say seven?”   
  
Oliver nodded. “I’ll meet you then,” he said, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “Will give us a chance to talk more, too. Goodnight, Skye.”   
  
“Goodnight, Oliver,” she replied and then watched him walk up the stairs, back to his room.   
  
Skye pulled out the letter and examined it. It was tightly bound, but she could tell it was a substantially large letter. Even in her worst moment, she would never think of reading it, but it didn’t stop her from being curious about what was inside.   
  
Clara barely talked about her family but she knew it weighed heavy on her. Clara had written to her from her home after she had graduated, but she never mentioned what it was like living there. She always wondered what Clara’s childhood home was like; she imagined that it was rather grand, probably up on a hill overlooking the village. Clara had told her about the horses and playing in the woods with her brother but no other details. She found out in her sixth year that she had a house-elf growing up, though Skye did not know whether he was still with the family.   
  
Skye sighed, sinking deeper into the armchair she was sitting in. She would have loved to have a drink, but she never drank during competition weekends. If she could just get the letter to Penny, but she wasn’t even sure how she could justify going to London. Chiara could do it, but she wasn’t sure when she would see her best friend again. _Why would Mr. O’Connor put her in this position?_ she wondered. _And did Clara really talk about me to her father?  
  
_ She realized that it was no use worrying about it that evening, but she was determined to get this letter into Clara’s hands as quickly as she could. She decided to head back to her room and write a quick letter before she went to sleep.   
  
\---  
  
 _November 30 th, 1997  
Holyhead, Wales_

  
Skye arrived back in Holyhead the next evening following another rough game. Her father had arranged for the portkey to take her back to the stadium, which was ideal for her. She had definitely dislodged a rib again and was hoping to stop into the clinic before heading back to her apartment. When she arrived she saw the light still on in the clinic; even if Amanda was working, it was worth it as the pain was becoming unbearable.   
  
She rang the bell that hung from the door and waited for someone to let her in. As she had suspected, Amanda was working the night shift.   
  
“Oh, Skye,” she said breathlessly, “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else tonight. Are you okay?”   
  
“Yes,” she said, “well actually that’s a lie, I think my rib is out again.”   
  
Amanda laughed, “Come in, it’s a quick fix if it is.”   
  
Skye followed her back to the examination room in the back. She used to like coming to visit Amanda during off days, but now, despite being friendly, she felt uncomfortable being alone with her.   
  
“I’ll need you to take your jumper off for me to check properly,” Amanda told her.   
  
“Oh, right,” Skye said awkwardly. “You’d think I’d know that by now.”   
  
“One would think,” Amanda agreed with a laugh.   
  
Skye pulled her jumper off and gingerly sat back down on the table. Amanda grabbed some purple salve and set it down beside her before gingerly touching Skye’s side. “Does this hurt?” she asked, palpating her ribs gently.   
  
“Just a lot,” Skye grimaced.   
  
Amanda pulled back, “Seems like it’s dislocated. I’ll be able to check it better if you lift your shirt up to expose the injury,” Amanda told her.   
  
Skye reluctantly lifted her shirt to show her the injured area.   
  
“Merlin’s beard, Skye,” Amanda exclaimed when she saw the extensive bruising. “Did you take a bludger right to the side?”   
  
“Aye,” she answered, “and a couple Irish chasers too.”   
  
Amanda shook her head, “Okay you know what comes next, right?”   
  
Skye groaned, “Do we have to?”   
  
“Yes,” Amanda answered. “Take a deep breath, will be over in a moment.”   
  
Skye took a huge breath as Amanda raised her wand.   
  
CRACK   
  
“AHH,” Skye yelled, holding her side. “Oh you’re just the worst sometimes,” she told Amanda with a grimace.  
  
Amanda laughed, “Here,” she said, handing her the salve. “You know the drill. Before you sleep and when you wake up in the morning. It’ll be healed in two days.”   
  
Skye slowly pulled her jumper back on and grabbed the purple salve. “Thank you, Amanda. I appreciate it.”   
  
Amanda shook her head, “It’s literally my job, Skye. Besides, it is nice to see you. I was worried about you.”   
  
“Worried about me?” Skye asked, “How come?”   
  
“Rita Skeeter’s article for one,” Amanda answered. “It must be hard to deal with all the stuff she’s putting out there.”   
  
“Oh, that,” Skye replied, “I’m getting used to it. I’m just sorry the lot of you were involved in it.”   
  
Amanda shrugged. “She tried to get a story out of me but I shut it down pretty quickly.”   
  
“I’m sorry that she even bothered you,” Skye offered. “You didn’t deserve that.”   
  
“After what I did, it’s the least I could do,” Amanda said. “But now it seems you and Oliver are dating? I know that can’t be true.”   
  
Skye snorted, “Yes, definitely not true. Just a ruse to get Skeeter off my back.”   
  
“And what does Oliver get out of it?” Amanda pressed.   
  
“The freedom to be with the woman he loves without putting her or himself in danger,” Skye answered honestly.   
  
“And what about you, Skye,” Amanda said, moving closer to her. “Do you get that too?”   
  
“What do you mean?” Skye asked, eyeing her cautiously.   
  
“Do you get to be with the woman you love?” Amanda asked her softly.   
  
Skye didn’t know how to answer her, but just then there was a knock on the door.   
  
“Open up,” came a voice from the other side. “I am looking for Skye Parkin.”   
  
Skye approached the door cautiously. “Who is it?”   
  
“Open up now, or I will open it for you,” the voice said.   
  
Skye opened the door and found herself face to face with Merula Snyde.   
  
She was about to say something but then Merula grabbed her by the arm, “Come with me now,” she commanded her and then they disapparated. The last thing she heard was Amanda’s gasp.  
  
They landed a moment later in a small clearing in the woods, just outside of the stadium.   
  
“Bloody hell, Merula, I would have just come with you had you asked,” Skye said, rubbing her arm.   
  
“Normally that would have been fine but considering there was a bystander,” Merula shrugged. “Did I hurt your arm?”  
  
“Today I was hit with a bludger and a rib dislodged itself from its usual position. I think I can handle a bruise on my arm,” Skye said indignantly.   
  
Merula laughed, “Good. Here,” she said, handing Skye a letter. “She asked me to give it to you two weeks ago but I couldn’t find a time to do it safely.”   
  
Skye grabbed the letter, “Clara?” she asked, looking up at Merula.   
  
She nodded in response. “She’s fine, and we found Ben. They are all safe in the place where they are,” she said, answering Skye’s unasked question.   
  
“Thank Merlin,” she said. She tucked the letter into her coat and then felt the other letters folded in her pocket. “Wait, here,” she said, handing them to Merula. “For Clara. One’s from me, the other is from her father.”   
  
Merula started at her blankly. “Her father?”   
  
Skye nodded. “I don’t even know how to explain it other than he approached me in Kenmare this weekend and asked me to give this to her.”   
  
Merula took the letters and tucked them into her robes. “I will get these to her tonight, I promise,” she told her.   
  
“I know you will,” Skye said.  
  
“She misses you,” Merula said, “and I would bring you to her if I could, but it’s just not safe.”   
  
Skye nodded. “How do I explain what happened here?”   
  
“Ah yes,” Merula said, “I’m going to have to rough you up.”   
  
“What?” Skye said, and then Merula grabbed her and they disapparated, landing out front of Skye’s apartment.   
  
“Don’t lie to us again, Parkin,” Merula shouted and shoved her up the stairs. “Or we’ll have to come back.” She then walked back down the main street and disapparated with a POP.   
  
Skye stood on the landing and watched Merula disappear into the night. She stepped into the apartment and immediately grabbed her bottle of whiskey. She didn’t even bother with the glass and took a huge gulp of it, letting the liquor burn down her body. She sunk into a chair by the fire and pulled out the letter from Clara.   
  
  
_Skye,  
  
I’m so sorry I had to leave so quickly. If I had it my way, I would have never left. There are so many things I want to say to you, so many things I want to tell you, and I promise I will.   
  
I also wanted to warn you that the Death Eaters suspect you know where I am and it’s only a matter of time before they come calling. Merula said she’ll try to hold them off the best she can, but she’s also in a compromised position. I’m not going to tell you to leave Holyhead, but I would advise you from taking any unnecessary risks.   
  
Don’t do something stupid for me, Skye. I’ll try to get back to you as soon as I can, but until then, just know I’m yours for as long as you want me, and then some.  
  
Love,  
  
Clara  
  
  
_Skye took a deep breath. After an unexpectedly eventful weekend, she was just thankful to know that Clara was safe. Merula’s sudden appearance was shocking, but it had nothing on Clara’s father showing up in her life. She was desperate to talk to her, but Merula, and Clara, were right. It was too dangerous.   
  
She sighed and got up from the chair. She could sleep easy, at least for the night. Tomorrow was a new day.  
  
\---


	44. The Runaways

**CHAPTER 44: The Runaways  
  
**_November 29 th, 1997  
The Forest of Dean_ **  
  
**  
“You’re sure he meant here?” Ben whispered.  
  
“Yes,” Clara and Chiara hissed back simultaneously.  
  
“Okay, okay.”  
  
“Come on, we have to move quietly,” Clara said quietly. “The longer we stay here, the more danger we are in.”  
  
“Should we transform?” Ben asked excitedly.  
  
“Perhaps we should,” Clara admitted. “Ben, you’ll have to follow instructions though. You’ll need to be in Chiara’s bag.”  
  
Ben stared at her. Though night had fallen, she knew the exact expression that was covering his face. “You’re joking. All that work to make the potion and I don’t get to run free like you, I have to be stuffed into a bag?” he hissed.  
  
“Ben, I want you to just think about this for a moment,” Clara whispered back impatiently. “If you were stranded in the woods, with no food, what would you do?”  
  
Ben paused. “I’d try to trap a small animal, I suppose.”  
  
“Exactly. And you, my friend, are a small animal, so shut up and get in the bag,” Clara hissed.  
  
“Are you two done arguing?” Chiara asked.  
  
“Yes,” Clara answered. “Ben will be getting in the bag.”  
  
“Hmpf,” Ben said, and then grabbed his wand and transformed. Clara waited until he was securely fastened in Chiara’s satchel before transforming herself.  
  
They walked through the forest, careful not to make too much noise. Clara sauntered ahead of the pack, leading them to where Remus had told them they would be. Apparently they had set up camp near the stream and they were supposed to follow it until they came across a small cave, shrouded by the trees. They had an X marked on one of the trees, and that would be how they knew where to find them.  
  
They walked for a quarter of an hour before finally coming across the mark in question. Clara sat down beside it and waited for Chiara to approach. She whistled a short tune, as they were instructed and waited for any sign of movement. She whistled again and then again a third time before Clara decided to inspect the cave herself.  
  
There were no protections, surrounding the area, indicating that the group had left the encampment, or worse, were killed. Clara was worried. She transformed back into her human form so that she could inspect the cave further. Chiara followed and Ben hopped out of the bag to join them.  
  
“What do you think happened here?” Ben asked, prodding a pile of wood with his foot.  
  
“They were definitely here, but not for a day at least,” she answered, inspected the charred wood. “They didn’t leave anything behind, so it’s likely that they were not captured.”  
  
“Well that’s a relief,” Chiara answered. “Do you think they just moved camp?”  
  
“Let’s hope so,” Clara said. “We should keep going. We can keep following the stream for a bit longer, but we need to keep our wits about us. The snatcher camp isn’t far from here.”  
  
Chiara and Ben nodded and then he and Clara transformed. As they were about to leave the cave, she heard footsteps and voices from the other side of the stream. Clara went rigid, alerting Chiara that there was possible danger. They crept slowly out of the cave and crouched under a tree, hoping to identify the voices.  
  
“We need to be careful, Dirk,” said a male voice, “we can’t be taking any risks right now.”  
  
“I know, Ted,” answered the man called Dirk, “but I am tired of wandering around the forest. We need to find a camp away from the eyes of the snatchers.”  
  
“It’s going to be hard to find a safe place at this rate, maybe we should just stop here,” came another voice. “We can put up the enchantments.”  
  
“We need shelter, Dean,” said Ted. “There are too many of us for the tent.”  
  
“I don’t mind sleeping outside,” the young man named Dean answered.  
  
“Shelter would be better, unless you enjoy freezing to death,” came another voice that made Clara’s fur stand up. _I know that voice,_ she thought.  
  
“Griphook’s right,” said Dirk, “we need shelter. Otherwise the snatchers will be the least of our worries.”  
  
Clara whined. She didn’t like Griphook much, but she couldn’t let them freeze when there was adequate shelter within reach. She barked, trying to draw their attention.  
  
“Clara, what are you doing?” Chiara hissed, trying to stay hidden. Clara walked out into the small clearing near the water and barked again, trying to get them to see her.  
  
“Is that a dog?” asked the youngest one, presumably Dean.  
  
“Looks like it,” said the one she thought was Ted. “I wonder what it’s doing out here.”  
  
Clara was frustrated; she decided to wade into the water and meet them on the other side. However, the water was frigid and she had to turn back immediately. She barked again, hoping that maybe they would try to come subdue her. Fortunately, one of them started to get the idea.  
  
“It’s trying to warn us of something, I think,” said Dean. “We should follow it.”  
  
“No, son, what if it’s a trap?” Dirk snapped at him.  
  
Suddenly Chiara was beside her with her hands up. “We are trying to help you, there is shelter here,” she said.  
  
“Chiara?” asked Ted, stepping out into the forefront. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Mr. Tonks?” Chiara asked. “Oh my goodness, it is you. Come quick, all of you, we might not have a lot of time.”  
  
“She’s friends with my daughter, we can trust her,” Ted explained to his companions. “Let’s go.”  
  
Clara watched Griphook climb on top of Ted’s shoulders while Dean picked up the second goblin to get them over the stream. Once they were safely on their side, Clara trotted ahead, leading them to the cave that was previously used by the werewolves they were seeking.  
  
“Brilliant,” Dean said to Chiiara, ”this should do well.”  
  
“Aye, this will do,” said Dirk. “Quick, let’s get the enchantments up.”  
  
Ted and Dirk set forth to place enchantments around the area while Dean set up their tent outside the entrance to the cave. Chiara went to help him and Clara sat and looked out into the darkness, listening for any strange noises.  
  
When the enchantments were done and the tent was up, Dirk came back and started to work on the fire.  
  
“I’m so sorry, lass,” he said, reaching out his hand to Chiara. “The name’s Dirk Cresswell. This is Dean Thomas,” he added, pointing to the young man, “and you already seem to know Ted Tonks.”  
  
“Yes,” she said, shaking Dirk’s and then Dean’s hands. “Ted’s daughter and I are good friends, we were in the same house and year at Hogwarts.”  
  
“I know Tonks,” added Dean, “not well. I guess I know of her more than anything.”  
  
Chiara smiled. “I’m Chiara Lobosca.” She turned to the goblins, “I think I’ve met you before, sir.”  
  
“I am Griphook and this is Gornuk,” he answered sharply.  
  
“Pleasure to meet you sir,” Chiara replied, giving both of them a nod.  
  
“Come, sit by the fire with us, Chiara,” Ten said with a smile. “That’s a bloody smart dog you have there,” he added.  
  
“That’s not a dog,” Griphook grunted. “That’s an animagus.”  
  
“Indeed,” Clara said, emerging from the darkness. “I should have known you’d recognize me, Griphook.”  
  
“Merlin’s beard,” said Dean, “are you Clara O’Connor?”  
  
Clara eyed him carefully, “Yes,” she admitted.  
  
“And I’m Ben Copper, though no one really recognizes me,” said Ben suddenly.  
  
“Blimey, where did he come from?” Dirk asked with a laugh.  
  
“Ah, Mr. Copper, was wondering if you would show up,” Gornuk said, extending his hand to Ben and then to Clara. “It is nice to see you both.”  
  
Clara shook his hand; Gornuk had always been much more agreeable than Griphook, though she still did not trust either of them. In their defense, they had little reason to trust wizards either given the atrocities that goblins had faced at the hands of them throughout history. Still, she wasn’t pleased that because of Griphook, three more wizards knew her animagus form.  
  
“You’re THE Clara O’Connor, though?” Dean asked again. “The one who broke the cursed vaults.”  
  
“Chiara and Ben helped with that too. I certainly didn’t do tit on my own,” Clara added.  
  
“Wow,” he said, impressed, “I never thought I would get the chance to meet you.”  
  
“Tonks used to tell us all about your adventures,” Ted said, handing her a mug. “It’s whiskey,” he added with a small smile.  
  
“Thank you, sir,” she said, taking the mug. “Tonks was certainly around for a lot of them,” she added with a laugh. 

Ted laughed, “Causing chaos I am sure.”  
  
“Always,” Clara answered with a smile.  
  
“So you are all on the run?” Ben asked.  
  
“Yes we are,” Dirk answered. “Muggle borns the lot of us. Griphook and Gornuk were forced to flee after the Death Eaters were put in control of Gringotts.”  
  
“I got the last laugh, though,” Griphook said, a sickly smile spreading over his face which looked haunting in the light of fire.  
  
“I feel like it’s best that we don’t ask what it was,” Ben commented.  
  
Griphook eyed them all from across the fire, “I wouldn’t tell you even if I did, but let’s just say, the Lestranges wouldn’t be happy with me,” he snarled.  
  
“That’s a dangerous family to cross on a good day, Griphook,” Ted warned. “Just ask my wife.”  
  
There was a collective murmur of agreement from the group.  
  
“Dean went on the run before the school year started. When the Ministry fell he had to leave his family with little warning and has been running from the Snatchers ever since,” Dirk explained to them.  
  
“You’re supposed to be in seventh year?” Chiara asked Dean. “What house?”  
  
“Gryffindor,” he answered, “my best mate is still there, though I don’t know how he’s doing. I keep thinking bout how empty the dormitory must feel now, with the three of us gone.”  
  
“The three of you?” Ben asked him.  
  
“Harry, Ron and I,” he explained. “It’s just Seamus and Neville now, and knowing them, they’re probably trying to rebel against the new regime.”  
  
He smiled sadly, a sentiment that Clara knew well. “I understand the impulse,” Clara offered.  
  
“It’s hard, not being able to help them,” Dean admitted.  
  
“The best thing you can do for them right now is to stay alive, son,” Dirk chimed in.  
  
“He’s right,” Clara agreed. “It’s been killing us, not being able to contribute to the cause, but the alternative is likely Azkaban.”  
  
“And that’s if we’re lucky,” Ben added.  
  
They chatted for a while longer until the fire started to die down. They realized then that they should head back to the Manor so they said their goodbyes to the group. They got up from the fire and Ted walked them to the edge of the boundary. “Thank you so much for your help this evening, I’m not sure what we would have done had you not been here,” he told them, placing a hand on Clara’s arm.  
  
“It was a lucky coincidence, that’s for sure,” Clara admitted. “We’re just glad we could help.”  
  
“We haven’t seen any friendly faces in weeks,” he continued, “it’s been mostly apparating to different parts of the forest, trying to avoid the snatchers. At least with a camp now, we can stay put for a bit.”  
  
“You should be safe here, Ted,” Clara told him, “for a little while at least. The Snatchers are congregated by the viaduct, so avoid that area as much as you can. We may be able to sneak you some food now and again, but I can’t promise anything.”  
  
“Please don’t put yourselves in danger for us, we can manage fine,” Ted answered, waving her off. “But Chiara, can you get a message to Dora for me?” he asked, turning to Chiara.  
  
“Of course, Mr. Tonks,” Chiara responded.  
  
“Just… tell her I love her, and that I am still safe,” he said seriously. “And that I will get back to her and Andromeda as soon as I can.”  
  
Chiara nodded, “I will tell her as soon as I can.”  
  
“Thank you,” he said. “Now off you go. Safe travels to you.”  
  
“You too, Mr. Tonks.”  
  
They took a step outside of the boundary and then Clara grabbed the two of them by the arm and disapparated them to safety.  
  
\---


	45. Letters

**CHAPTER 45: Letters  
  
** _November 30 th, 1997  
Snyde Manor  
  
  
_Clara walked into the dining room and saw Ben seated at the table reading the latest Daily Prophet.   
  
“Anything interesting?” she asked him.   
  
He scoffed, “Nothing really. Gringotts is asking for help tracking down some employees on the run.”   
  
“So, us?” Clara asked him.   
  
“Pretty much,” he answered. “They aren’t saying anything about the fact that goblins are on the run too.”   
  
“I assume they don’t want to reveal to the masses that they now control the bank,” Clara suggested.   
  
“That would be my guess as well,” he nodded. “It was weird seeing Griphook and Gornuk last night. Do you think it was a mistake to show myself?”   
  
“Hard to say if they even noticed what your animagus was,” Clara shrugged. “Griphook will sell us both out for the right price though, and anyone who knows us will assume we are hiding out together.”   
  
Ben nodded. “I was so eager to get out of the house, I think I forgot how to be a proper tracker. I haven’t had to do it in years.”   
  
Clara sighed, “I wish we didn’t have to do it at all. I’ve had enough of it.”   
  
Ben looked up at her, “You never talk about Norway.”   
  
“There’s too much to unpack,” she admitted, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”   
  
“I wish you would,” he told her, “maybe I could help you work through it.”   
  
“I will, someday,” she said. “It’s just another thing I need to deal with though, and I have to admit, I can’t even begin to process it.”   
  
Ben nodded again. “Hey, where’s Chiara?”   
  
“Went to see if she could talk to Tonks,” she told him. “We decided it would be safer if she went solo. Barnaby is up in his room, not entirely sure what he’s doing. Where’s Penny?”   
  
“In the kitchen, attempting to make dinner,” he said casually. “I haven’t seen a lot of her lately, she’s been at the shop a lot.”   
  
Clara thought about it for a moment. Penny had been off since the animagus potion was finished. She actually hadn’t seen much of her either. Suddenly Penny appeared in the dining room holding two plates of food.   
  
“Oh,” she said, seeing Clara standing there, “I didn’t know you were in here, Clara. I would have brought you a plate,” she said.   
  
“Oh no worries, Pen,” Clara waved her off, “I can go grab a plate. Not very hungry at the moment though I must admit.”   
  
Penny nodded and then placed one plate down in front of Ben. She did not seem like herself and Clara noticed that it looked as though she had been crying. _  
_  
“What is this?” asked Ben, pointing to the food on his plate.  
  
“Potatoes,” Penny said, sitting down across from him.   
  
Clara mouthed ‘ _no’_ ’ to him from behind Penny’s back but he evidently didn’t see her. “Are you sure?” he asked her, prodding the potatoes with his fork.   
  
Penny glared at him and then slammed her fork down on the table. “You know what, Ben, if you have an issue with my potatoes, you can make them yourself next time,” she yelled and then got up and left the kitchen.   
  
“What the bloody hell was that?” Ben asked Clara with a look of pure confusion.   
  
“Something that had nothing to do with the potatoes, I’m sure,” Clara said. “I’ll go talk to her,” she added.   
  
“I really didn’t mean to,” he began.   
  
“I know, Ben,” she said, trying to reassure him. “Just eat them and tell her you loved them later, okay?”   
  
He nodded and shoved a forkful in his mouth. “Mmm,” he said, choking them down.  
  
It wasn’t uncommon for Penny to snap at Ben for something minor, especially considering the amount of grief he had given her about the animagus potion. It appeared that Ben had gotten over whatever transpired between the two of them, but Penny, it seemed, had grown increasingly irritable with him.   
  
Clara made her way up the stairs, running into Barnaby on the way up.   
  
“Clara, I think I heard Penny crying, do you want me to check on her?” he asked, concerned.   
  
“I’ve got this, Barnaby,” Clara said, giving him a smile, “but thank you.”   
  
Barnaby smiled back. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? Also, did I smell potatoes?”   
  
Clara laughed, “Actually, it would be a huge help if you ate the rest of the potatoes Penny made.”   
  
“On it,” he said, and rushed down to the kitchen.   
  
Clara walked further down the corridor to Penny’s room and pressed her ear up against the door. She could hear Penny crying, presumably trying to be as quiet as possible so she wouldn’t draw attention to herself. Penny never liked being the center of attention, despite the fact that she was always quite popular. Most people assumed that she was always happy, but Clara had seen her at her darkest times and had a feeling the Penny was barreling into another one   
**  
**Clara knocked softly. “Pen,” she said, “it’s me.”  
  
She heard Penny blow her noise and then the door opened the door a crack, “I’m in a state, Clara,” she admitted.   
  
“Talk to me,” Clara offered. “Let me help you.”   
  
Penny’s shoulders dropped but she opened the door. “You’re always the one helping me when I’m like this, I wish I was better at helping myself,” Penny said sadly, sinking onto the bed.  
  
“You’ve helped me when I’ve been at my lowest, and you continue to risk your life for me,” Clara reminded her. “There’s no shame in asking for help when you need it.”   
  
“I don’t know if it’s help that I need,” Penny said, looking up at her with tears in her eyes.   
  
“Well let’s start with my ear,” Clara answered. “Would you like to talk about it?”   
  
Penny reached into her coat and pulled out a letter. “This is from my mum,” she said, “Beatrice is missing.”   
  
“What?” Clara asked, sitting down beside her. “Missing how?”   
  
“Missing as in she left and hasn’t come back,” Penny replied, wiping a tear from her eye.   
  
“Do you think she left on her own? Or do you think she was taken?” Clara asked her.   
  
“I think she left,” Penny admitted. “There’s not reason why should we taken by the Death Eaters.”   
  
“Where would she go?”   
  
Penny bit her lip, “Ismelda is back, it’s possible that she sought her out.”   
  
Clara remembered how close Ismelda and Penny’s sister Beatrice were at Hogwarts. She assumed that due to the age difference they would have drifted apart through the years.   
  
“Have they been in contact since we graduated?” Clara asked.   
  
“Yes,” she said, “Beatrice went to visit her and Barnaby last summer.”   
  
“Well, it’s a good lead to follow,” Clara told her. “If she’s with Ismelda, then she might be safe.”   
  
“We don’t know that, though, do we?” Penny stated, her eyes welling up again.  
  
“I suppose we don’t.” Clara said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “But we’re going to find out,” she added.  
  
“How?” Penny asked. “I can’t ask Merula to put herself in more danger than she already is. She’s barely here to begin with.”   
  
Clara nodded, “We could ask Barnaby?” she suggested.   
  
“No,” she said, “I don’t want to get him involved. Didn’t you get the feeling that he wasn’t being entirely forthcoming about his relationship with Ismelda?” she asked her.   
  
“Yes,” Clara acknowledged, “I did get that feeling. Merula hasn’t mentioned anything yet either.”   
  
“So we might be out of options,” Penny admitted.   
  
Clara thought about it for a moment and then it dawned on her. “Not quite,” she said. “We may have one more option.”   
  
Penny looked up at her, hopeful.   
  
“You’re not going to like it,” Clara continued.  
  
Penny stared at her. “You don’t mean…”   
  
“I do mean.”   
  
“It’s too dangerous,” Penny warned her. “Even trying to find him will be.”   
  
“I know how,” Clara said.   
  
“How do you know if he’ll even help?” Penny remarked.   
  
“He’ll help,” Clara said firmly, fidgeting with the ring on her finger. “He already promised me he would.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Penny asked seriously.   
  
Clara shook her head. “He said he would help when the time came, and I think the time has come for him to decide.”   
  
“You can’t go at him with an ultimatum, Clara,” Penny warned her. “He won’t respond to it.”   
  
Clara shook her head, “I’m not giving him an ultimatum; I’m going to remind him of who he is,” she said firmly.  
  
Penny sighed, “Better you than me.”   
  
“We sure know how to pick them, don’t we?” Clara added with a laugh.   
  
Penny allowed herself to smile, “At least you know what Skye wants? Right?”   
  
Clara didn’t answer, she just grinned.   
  
“Clara O’Connor,” Penny gasped and hit her arm. “What have you been keeping from me?”   
  
“Nothing you can’t figure out I’m sure,” Clara smiled.   
  
“Oh no, you have to tell me everything,” Penny said.   
  
“Well, you know I went to see her,” Clara began. “But I didn’t come home until the morning.”  
  
“Wait, I was there that morning!” Penny exclaimed. “How did you slip past me?”   
  
“The last bit of invisibility potion you gave me,” Clara grinned. “And when I got back, you and Chiara were having the ingredient crisis.”   
  
“Right, right,” Penny said. “Can’t believe you kept this from me, you sly dog.”   
  
“You know I’m not one to kiss and tell,” Clara reminded her.   
  
Penny sighed, “She makes you happy, doesn’t she?”   
  
Clara didn’t answer right away. “I almost don’t want to answer that. Every time I start to let myself be happy, something bad happens.”   
  
“I know what you mean,” Penny answered.   
  
They gave each other an understanding look and then Penny said, “Hey, Clara can you promise me something?”   
  
“What’s that, Pen?” Clara asked.   
  
“When you have the chance to be happy, please take it,” Penny pleaded with her. “You’ve been through too much pain and suffering for one lifetime. You deserve love and you deserve to be happy.”   
  
Clara smiled and pulled her friend in for a hug. “I promise, but only if you do too.”   
  
“I promise,” Penny answered, burying her head into Clara’s shoulder. “Oh one more thing,” Penny added. “Please don’t tell Ben you’re going to see Talbott.”   
  
“I’ve got more sense than that, Pen,” she laughed.   
  
\---  
  
Clara sat by the fire that evening thinking about her conversation with Penny. She knew what she felt about Skye, but every time she tried to verbalize it, the words got stuck in her throat. At first she blamed it on the situation, that she didn’t want to tempt fate by letting herself be happy. But when the article about her and Oliver came out, whether it was real or not, brought her back to that night on the beach almost three years ago. Even if she wasn’t a fugitive, Skye was still a quidditch star and no matter how much they loved each other she wondered if they would still have to continue living their lives in secret. Clara was private and liked it that way, but she was tired of hiding who she was. Every time she thought about it, she convinced herself that it didn’t matter, but as the weeks went by, she had to admit that it worried her.   
  
After they talked, Penny apologized to Ben about her outburst, but Ben shut her down by promising that he would eat anything she cooked for the rest of her life, no questions asked. Following that, they went to the drawing room and watched Ben and Barnaby played wizards chess. One by one they all went to bed until Clara was sitting alone in front of the fire, holding a glass of whiskey.   
  
She felt herself nodding off when she heard someone cough, snapping her attention back to the room.   
  
“You’d sleep better upstairs,” Merula said, pouring herself a drink and joining her by the fire.   
  
“I’m not so sure,” Clara answered, “I can’t remember the last time I actually slept well.”   
  
“You and me both,” Merula added.   
  
“Any news on Ismelda?” Clara asked her.   
  
Merula shook her head. “I can’t find her,” she confessed. “I’ve tried every channel I know and I can’t find her.”   
  
Clara took a sip of her drink. “Beatrice is missing too.”   
  
Merula looked up at her, stunned. “Penny’s sister?”   
  
“The very same. We were wondering if they might be together,” Clara told her.   
  
“An interesting theory, have you asked Barnaby?”   
  
Clara gave her a look, “Merula… I’m getting the sense that Barnaby may not be telling us the truth about what’s going on between them,” she admitted. “I was wondering if maybe it’s time that you talked to him.”   
  
Merula nodded. “A problem for tomorrow. In the meantime,” she reached into her robes, “here. Two letters for you.”   
  
Clara grabbed them, brows furrowed. There were no names on them. “From who?”   
  
“That one is from Skye. I delivered yours and she apparently had the same idea,” she explained. “And that one,” she pointed at the larger of the two, “is from your father.”   
  
The room went silent. “My father?” Clara asked, staring at the parchment in her hand. “I… uhh, how?”   
  
“I’m not entirely sure. Skye was in Kenmare today and your father approached her to give her the letter,” Merula told her.   
  
Clara stared at the letter. “I guess I should read it,” Clara shrugged.   
  
“I can leave,” Merula suggested.   
  
“No, stay, please,” Clara said and unfurled it.   
  
  
_Dear Clara,  
  
I hope this letter finds you well I and that I have found a way to get this to you without putting you in danger. I have been trying to ascertain you whereabouts through the Prophet, although I have reason to suspect their version of events are not altogether truthful.   
  
You are wise to stay away for more reasons than one. The Death Eaters have come looking for you here as I am sure you have guessed; given that we have no idea where you are, I think I was able to convince them of that. Your mother was not pleased with the intrusion, again as you could imagine. I know she misses you in her own way, but she can’t move past it yet.   
  
I am sure the Death Eaters are watching me now; so sending it by owl was not an option. I wanted to let you know that there was an attempted break in on our family vault. It’s clear that Gringotts has been taken over by them, but fortunately, we have enchantments placed on it that only the goblins and myself can break. It did remind me of a chest that is missing, however.   
  
After your brother passed a certain number of items of his were moved out of the family vault and into an unknown vault. We believe that that could be what they are after. I’m not entirely sure what is in it, but for all we know, it could be associated with Jacob’s death. If you know where it is, make sure it is safe. The more information they have about our family, the more danger we are all in.   
  
I hope that the next time I see you it will be under different circumstances. I hope that we can be a family once again.  
  
Love,   
  
Your Father  
  
  
_Clara finished reading it and then passed it to Merula.   
  
“Are you sure?” she asked. Clara nodded, urging her to read it. After she finished reading she looked up at Clara. “The missing chest…”   
  
“The one Jacob left me?” Clara asked.   
  
“Sounds like it,” Merula agreed. “What do you want to do?”   
  
“Leave it there,” she said firmly. “I’m not ready for it.”   
  
“Understood. Are you okay with the rest of it?”   
  
Clara shrugged. “I don’t know. It is what it is,” she said. “Can we just table this for the time being?”   
  
“Of course,” Merula agreed. “I think I’m going to try and get some sleep, maybe you should do the same.”   
  
Clara nodded, “Good night, Merula.”   
  
“Good night, Clara.”   
  
Clara waited until she heard Merula climbing the stairs before pulling Skye’s letter out. _  
  
  
Clara,  
  
I’ll wait for you, as long as it takes.   
  
I’m yours,   
  
Skye  
  
  
_\---


	46. Will You Be Mine?

**CHAPTER 46: Will You Be Mine?  
**  
 _February 13 th, 1991  
Hogwarts Castle, Scotland  
  
  
_“So did he finally ask you?” Clara asked Penny.   
  
“No,” Penny admitted sadly. “I thought he was going to, but once again, he barely said a word.”   
  
Clara shook his head, “He’s a bloody idiot.”   
  
Penny laughed, “You might be the only one that thinks that,” she shrugged.   
  
“He’ll come around,” Clara assured her.   
  
“The dance is tomorrow, Clara,” Penny reminded her, “I think the message is pretty clear.”   
  
Clara handed her a piece of chocolate, “Well you can still be my valentine if you want,” she told her with a smile.   
  
Penny beamed, “It would be my honour.”   
  
They sat there for a moment and then Penny said, “Wait a minute, who are you going to the dance with?”   
  
“Oh,” Clara said, “I wasn’t actually planning on going.”   
  
“Clara!” Penny exclaimed. “You have to come, everyone is going.”   
  
“I don’t know, Pen, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”   
  
“We can be each other’s dates,” Penny offered. “It just won’t be as fun without my best friend.”   
  
Clara smiled, “Only if you don’t make me dance.”   
  
“Deal,” Penny said.   
  
“And keep Diego away from me,” Clara said, “I don’t have the energy for him.”   
  
“I don’t think anyone has the energy for Diego most days,” Penny added with a laugh.   
  
Clara smiled. She loved Diego, he was just… a lot, especially when it came to dancing.   
  
“Are you sure there’s no one you want to ask to the dance?” Penny asked her.   
  
Clara shook her head.   
  
“I guarantee we could get you a date in an instant,” Penny continued. “So many people would jump at the chance to spend time with you, the Hero of Hogwarts.”   
  
“You know I hate that nickname,” Clara reminded her. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to go with someone who just wants to say that they went with me. I’d rather go with someone I like.”   
  
“Well let’s pick someone you like,” Penny suggested.   
  
“There’s no one here that I want to go with,” Clara stated. “And that’s the honest truth.”   
  
“Ah, understood,” Penny said. Then she got up very suddenly, “I just remembered there was something I needed to do today,” she blurted out. “I will see you tonight for dinner?”   
  
Clara eyed her warily, “Penny, what are you up to?” she asked.   
  
“Nothing! I promise, just something for potions,” Penny responded, trying to avoid eye contact. “I’ll see you tonight,” she added before turning to run back up the path to the castle.   
  
“Penny!” Clara yelled after her. “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing!”  
  
Penny turned quickly and shot her a smile and then continued running.  
  
“Bloody hell,” Clara whispered to herself.   
  
She leaned back against the tree she and Penny liked to hang out by. It was quite large and the sprawling branches provided privacy from the leering stares that they got every time they walked anywhere. Between Penny’s popularity and Clara’s, let’s face it, infamy, they were the two most talked about students in the entire school. And while Penny handled it well, Clara was not so adept at it these days.

Unfortunately, things had only gotten worse. Since the professors announced that there would be a Valentine’s day dance two weeks previously, Penny had been bombarded with students asking her to come to the dance with them. Penny was gracious each time, but she was holding onto hope that one particular wizard would ask her. Unfortunately, Talbott did not seem keen to make a move.   
  
As for Clara, she had no interest in going to the dance, let alone attending with someone other than her friends. She saw the stares, she knew what they whispered behind her back, that she dated women, that she was queer, that maybe that explained why she was so interested in the Dark Arts. And as much as it made her heart happy to hear that her friends stood up for her, it was much easier to just hide away from it all and focus on what was important; the Vaults and finding her brother.   
  
She sighed and sunk back into the tree, staring at the Black Lake, willing the Giant Squid to come to the surface so she could slink off while the students ooed and awed at it. She scanned the grounds, trying to time her escape, and that was when she saw a brown eagle flying above Hagrid’s hut.   
  
_Talbott,_ she said to herself. She looked around again and saw that no one was looking, and then quickly transformed and bounded towards the perimeter of the forest. She arrived in the clearing and barked at the eagle floating overhead. It flew down and landed on a low hanging branch. Clara transformed and stared at him with her hands on her hips.  
  
“Any day now,” she said.   
  
Finally, Talbott climbed down to the ground. “What is it?” he asked.   
  
“You know what it is,” she answered. “Why haven’t you asked her yet?”   
  
Talbott didn’t answer.  
  
Clara sighed, “If you are worried that she’ll say no, you needn’t worry. She’s said no to everyone else because she’s waiting for you. At this rate she’s going to make me go with her and I really don’t want to go.”   
  
“That’s the problem,” he said, “I don’t like being the center of attention.”   
  
“Penny might be the center of attention, but the only thing she’ll be focused on is you, Talbott,” Clara told him.   
  
Talbott stayed silent again.   
  
“You know, I would never push you to do something that you don’t want to do, but Penny is my best friend,” Clara continued, “So if you don’t like her or you don’t want to ask her to the dance, tell her. You owe her that much, after all she’s done for you,” she finished and then turned to leave.   
  
“Clara, wait,” Talbott said suddenly, prompting Clara to stop and turn around to face him. “I just don’t know how to begin,” he mumbled.   
  
Clara smiled, “You already know the answer, Talbott, all you need to ask,” she said. “But if you’re really nervous, I’ll get her to the courtyard tonight.”   
  
“You would do that for me?” he asked her.   
  
“Of course,” Clara answered, “I care about you two. I just want you to be happy.”   
  
Talbott’s mouth twitched for a moment and Clara thought he might smile, which would have been a miracle. Instead he just said, “I will see you tonight.” He quickly transformed and took flight.   
  
“Well, hopefully that works,” she said out loud, and then crept back through the path to the grounds.   
  
\---  
  
“So. Why did you run away so quickly earlier? What exactly are you up to?” Clara asked Penny suspiciously.   
  
“Nothing,” Penny smiled. “Eat your dinner.”   
  
Clara shook her head, “Fine, fine.” She poked her food around with her fork. “Hey, Pen,” she started, “I was planning to work on something for Defense, can you help me in the courtyard tonight?”   
  
“Sure!” Penny replied. “What are you working on?”   
  
“Non-verbal spells,” Clara told her.   
  
“I thought you had mastered those,” Penny questioned her.   
  
“Never hurts to practice,” Clara shrugged.   
  
“You’re right about that,” Penny answered. “I have a stack of books I need to go over for my N.E.W.Ts.”   
  
“Don’t even remind me,” Clara cringed. “I wish this dance wasn’t happening tomorrow,” she added. “I have a paper for Care of Magical Creatures due on Friday.”   
  
“Kettleburn gave you a paper?” Penny asked.   
  
“Yes, on dragons,” she explained. “Ben and I are working on it together.”   
  
“Who is Ben taking to the dance by the way?” Penny asked her.   
  
“I think he asked Liz,” Clara replied, “but I am not sure what she said.”   
  
“I’m surprised she and Barnaby aren’t going together,” Penny wondered.   
  
“He and Ismelda are back together again,” Clara remarked.  
  
“You don’t seem pleased about that,” Penny probed her.   
  
“I want him to be happy, obviously, I just don’t trust her really,” Clara admitted.   
  
“You and me both, Clara,” Penny agreed.   
  
Clara finished her last bite and then hurried Penny out of the Great Hall.   
  
“Why the rush?” Penny asked as they were on the move.   
  
“Too many people staring at me, I needed to get out of there,” Clara explained.   
  
“Fair enough.”   
  
They arrived in the courtyard and found it nearly empty. _Perfect,_ Clara thought to herself. _Exactly what Talbott would want._  
  
“What do you want to work on first?” Penny asked.   
  
“I was thinking of some conjuring spells to start?” Clara offered.   
  
“Sounds good to me,” Penny said.   
  
They worked on the spells for a bit and then Clara saw the brown eagle floating above the courtyard.   
  
“Let’s take a quick break, shall we?” Clara offered.   
  
“Sure, I think I have the basics down, but I could use a break before we try the harder spells,” Penny answered. They sat down on the edge of the fountain and took a deep breath.   
  
“Clara, Penny,” Talbott said suddenly, emerging from behind the fountain.   
  
“Hello, Talbott,” Clara answered, while Penny began to blush and sink behind her. “What brings you here?” she asked.   
  
“I was actually wondering if I could speak with Penny about something important,” he said, seriously.   
  
Penny looked at her wide-eyed and Clara almost blew it. “Of course,” Clara answered, “I actually should head to the library to work on my paper.” She got up from the stone wall, “I will leave you to it.” She winked at Penny and then left the courtyard, beaming.   
  
\---  
 _February 14 th, 1991  
_  
  
“Penny, why are you so distressed?” Clara asked her, wiping heart shaped confetti off of her friend’s shoulders. Lockhart was back again for the second straight year and was spreading Valentine’s Day cheer, complete with gaudy decorations and using dwarves to deliver valentines. Clara had received a few, though a few of them had a much sinister message attached to them. As a result, she had been spending the majority of the day on the grounds, avoiding as much human contact as possible. However, just as she was heading back in to grab dinner, Penny had appeared in the entrance hall with a worried look on her face. “What happened?”   
  
“Nothing,” Penny explained, “that’s the problem.”   
  
“What are you on about?” Clara pressed her.   
  
Penny sighed. “I did something that you may not be happy about but I care too much about your happiness at this point to care about the consequences.”   
  
Clara groaned, “Did you actually attempted to brew a love potion?”   
  
“A love potion?” Penny exclaimed. “Of course not! Is that what you thought I was doing?”   
  
“A little, yeah,” Clara shrugged. “So what did you do?”   
  
“I sent a letter to someone, to see if they would come be your date,” Penny told her. “And I haven’t heard back from them.”   
  
Clara stared at her, “You didn’t.”   
  
“I did,” Penny said sheepishly. “And upon reflection maybe it wasn’t the best idea I ever had, but you took matters into your own hands with Talbott, I was just hoping I could do the same for you.”   
  
Clara nodded, “I guess that’s true,” she admitted.   
  
“I shouldn’t have even said anything, I just wanted you to be with the person you really wanted to be with tonight,” Penny said sadly.   
  
Clara squeezed her hand. “I appreciate you,” she said, “but I am also going to skip this evening.”   
  
“I’m sorry, Clara,” Penny reiterated.   
  
Clara shook her head, “It’s fine, Pen. I’m going to go for a walk.”   
  
Penny nodded at her sadly and Clara left.   
  
\---  
  
Clara sat in the quidditch stands, bundled up in her winter robes with a jar of blue flames at her side to keep her warm. She loved laying out at night, examining the stars in the night sky. During the fall when the weather was still warm, she had actually fallen asleep in the stands a few times. She didn’t mind it though, anything to be out of the dormitory sounded good to her.  
  
She closed her eyes and thought about what Rowan would think about her skipping out on the dance. Her friends had tried to convince her again to come to the dance, but she just couldn’t bring herself to face it. Rowan might have skipped it with her, especially if Ben didn’t ask her to go. She wondered if Ben ever knew that Rowan had a crush on him; she wondered if Ben ever felt the same, she never asked.   
  
She let her mind wander for a moment to the last night she and Skye spent here in the quidditch stands. She had spent so much time wishing she could redo that night, hoping it would end differently that time. As she reminisced about it, she heard a soft voice calling out to her at the edge of her periphery.   
  
“Clara?” it asked.   
  
She opened her eyes and looked up to see Skye standing in front of her.   
  
“Skye?” she asked, scrambling upright. “Is this real?”  
  
She laughed, “What are you doing out here?”   
  
“Looking at the stars,” she told her, laying back down.   
  
“Oh is that so?” Skye answered, sitting down beside her. “Is that really why you’re out here?”   
  
Clara sighed. “I guess you could say that I am hiding,” she confessed.   
  
They sat in silence for a moment, looking at the stars.   
  
“I got the letter,” Skye mentioned casually.   
  
“Penny’s doing,” Clara explained. “Not my idea. I didn’t even want to go to the dance in the first place.”   
  
“I figured,” Skye answered. “I didn’t come because she asked me to come to the dance.”   
  
“So why did you come?” Clara asked her.   
  
Skye was quiet for a moment, “Because she told me that you missed me, and I guess I hoped that you did,” she said.   
  
Clara smiled. “Maybe I did.” She looked up and saw Skye shivering, “Come here,” she said, letting Skye move closer to her. Even the little bit of physical contact with her was enough to set Clara’s skin on fire. Her little blue flames were hardly necessary.   
  
“I’m sorry to just show up like this,” Skye continued. “In truth, I was supposed to come this weekend to talk with Madam Hooch but I bumped it up a day after I got the letter.”   
  
“Penny’s going to be upset that you didn’t answer her,” Clara teased.   
  
“You can tell her how sorry I am tomorrow,” Skye shrugged, with a small smile.   
  
They sat there for a bit longer and Clara felt Skye’s hand inching closer to hers. She met her halfway and wrapped her own around it. Skye leaned into her and dropped her head onto Clara’s shoulder in response.   
  
“I’m happy you’re here,” Clara told her.   
  
“Me too,” Skye said, looking up at her from her shoulder.   
  
“You can’t look at me like that, Parkin,” Clara said, trying not to make eye contact with her, instead she fixed her gaze on the blue flames.   
  
“Why not?” Skye teased her.   
  
Clara sent a sideways glance at her, “You know why.”   
  
“Well how about I do this instead?” Skye said confidently, and then she kissed her.  
  
And just like that, she was lost in Skye all over again.   
  
\--- _  
  
December 5 th, 1997  
London, England  
  
  
Clara,  
  
_ _I’ll wait for you, as long as it takes._

 _I’m yours,  
  
_ _Skye  
  
  
_ Clara tucked the letter into her pouch of most treasured items along with the picture of Jacob and a bronze ring she had received from her parents when she was young. It had belonged to her father’s mother, who had been a formidable witch and who had unfortunately perished during the first wizarding war. Her father always credited her bravery and her conviction as the reason why their ancient wizarding family turned their backs on pure-blood beliefs of magic, and aligned themselves with Dumbledore. She kept the ring as a reminder of that and that despite the friction in her family, that they were good at their cores.   
  
The ring was adorned with Celtic knot work and was set with a blue gemstone; her father said they traced the origins back to the seventh century, when their ancestors landed in Ireland. Her father gave an identical one to Jacob, which had belonged to their grandfather, though it had three much smaller, green gemstones set deep into the ring.   
  
She wondered if Jacob had worn that as his wedding band, or if he had given it to Merula. It would be a question for another day, as the issue with the chest had admittedly caused some tension between the two of them. Neither had said a word to the others, an unspoken agreement that they had with each other regarding most matters, dating back to their time at Hogwarts.   
  
For the time being, Clara’s quest was straightforward. Find Talbott as quickly as she could and then get back to safety. Clara knew the easiest place to find him would be in London but taking into account the warning he had given her last time, she knew she would be taking a risk. However, she felt that was worth it to help Penny, considering the sacrifices and risks Penny had taken for her.   
  
She had tried a few places over the last week, but she was acting on a lead from Merula who told her that ministry workers were required to enter through a new entrance in Whitehall. However, since Clara didn’t know exactly where it was, she found herself trotting through Trafalgar Square looking for any signs of witches or wizards to follow on their way to the Ministry.  
  
As much as she enjoyed the fact that she was an animagus and had grown accustomed to the freedom that came from being a dog, she always felt a little bit exposed due to the fact that she couldn’t use her wand.   
  
She followed the road south from Trafalgar, down Whitehall and past all of the muggle buildings she remembered from trips to London that she took with her father when she was a child. She tried to close to the buildings to blend in and stay out of sight. She had no clue where the entrance was, so she decided to sit and wait next to a rubbish bin near a bronze statue of an old British royal riding a horse.   
  
Clara watched the people passing by, hoping to see something that would give one of them away. She saw no robes, no hats, no eccentric fashion choices that were common with wizards trying to pass as muggles; in fact, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. She stayed and watched for a while, but after the third muggle child tried to pet her, she decided to try a new vantage point.   
  
She walked along the street once more, choosing to stop in a small alley across the street from the underground toilets. There was a steady stream of people coming in and out of it so she sat back on her haunches and watched. It was nearing eight thirty in the morning which she assumed was when most people started work in both the muggle and the wizarding world. She watched for a bit, noticing that the stream of people going into the toilet was increasing, but not many people were coming out of it. She decided to track the next man and woman that went into the toilets to see if they came out again.   
  
After about ten minutes, she saw the man return, but the woman did not. She waited for another ten minutes and when she didn’t reappear, Clara decided she needed to investigate further, to see if it was really the entrance. She walked across the street and then slipped down the stairs with the next group of people that went down. Considering it was London, no one thought twice about the fact that a dog was in the underground; well, at least she thought so.   
  
She was about to sneak into the ladies toilets when she felt someone grab her by the scruff of her neck. She yelped and tried to get away but whoever it was had a firm grasp on her. She knew that she would have a better chance of escaping if she transformed, but the risk of being exposed was far too great. Not only was she deemed an Undesirable by the new regime, but she was also an unregistered animagus and she would be breaking the statute of secrecy by performing magic in front of muggles. She had no choice but to stay as she was.   
  
She was being dragged up the stairs and still couldn’t see who had grabbed her. She was struggling to breathe and had no idea how much longer she could hold on. Finally, she was dropped unceremoniously in a dark alley. She darted around, trying to escape but she heard a man’s voice say something and felt herself transforming without her consent.   
  
“I told you that you couldn’t come back here,” he said. “Why are you so incapable of listening?”   
  
Clara glared at him. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”   
  
Talbott stared at her. “You’re not really in a position to order me around, Clara.”   
  
“You knew it was me, you didn’t need to do that to me,” she reiterated. “Do you understand if any of them saw you manhandling a dog, they might question it?”   
  
“Clara,” Talbott said, “they already know you’re an animagus.”   
  
“What?” she asked, terrified.   
  
“Someone told them,” he explained. “They wouldn’t give me the source but it’s updated in your file. They don’t actually know your form, thankfully, but Peterson was in the office telling everyone he thinks you might be a dog.”   
  
Clara swore. “I shouldn’t be here,” she admitted. “You’re right.”   
  
He nodded. “I didn’t tell you that because I didn’t want to see you. It’s so dangerous, even more so now.”   
  
“Okay,” she said, “I’m going to go, but I need your help before I go.”   
  
“Clara,” he began.   
  
Clara cut him off quickly, “I’m not asking for me, I’m asking for Penny. Beatrice is missing,”  
  
Talbott stared at her, calculating. Finally he said, “I’ll find her. Now go.”   
  
“How will you reach us?” she asked.   
  
“I know how to find you,” he said simply. “Don’t ask me any more questions, please. Now please, go,” he pleaded with her.   
  
She nodded and then quickly disapparated.   
  
\---  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Valentine's treat for y'all. Might revisit this scene in the future, but the idea struck me and I needed to get it down. 
> 
> Cheers!


	47. Andre's Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright alright. I know it's been a minute! 
> 
> Honestly I needed a brain break because the story was falling a bit flat and I knew if I kept pushing it would have been a lot of filler with no direction. Tbh I could just write flashbacks all day which can be fun but also can be super boring for all of you when it's not going anywhere. 
> 
> So, the other night I plummeted into the deep dark web aka obscure Wikipedia pages and I think I found something that might be a good connector so not to hype this up but I am motivated to write again! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! And I will be updating more frequently :)

CHAPTER 47: Andre’s Warning  
  
 _December 7th, 1997  
Holyhead, Wales_

  
“Can you stop that? You’re making me nervous,” Rath asked Skye, as they waited at Skye’s kitchen table; Skye couldn’t stop her leg from bouncing.   
  
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I can’t help it.”   
  
“He said he would come,” Rath assured her.  
  
“I know,” she said, “but everything makes me nervous these days.”   
  
“What’s the big deal about this time?” Rath asked her. “He didn’t even tell me why he was coming.”   
  
“I think he has some information,” she admitted.   
  
“About?”   
  
“Clara. Or something related to her.”   
  
Rath shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You are obsessed.”   
  
Skye blushed, “I just want to help.”   
  
“Oh I’m not taking the piss, Parkin,” Rath stated, grabbing her glass of water and taking a quick drink. “I wish I had someone who couldn’t stop thinking about me.”  
  
“No luck with Gwenog then?” Skye asked her.   
  
Rath laughed, “Not even a hint of anything. Besides, the last thing she needs to deal with is a teammate who is harbouring an inappropriate crush on her.”   
  
“Maybe that’s exactly what she needs,” Skye suggested with a wink.   
  
“Oh ha ha,” Rath said, rolling her eyes.   
  
Skye chuckled, pleased with herself.   
  
“Anyway,” Rath said, changing the subject. “I saw McLaggen this morning, she asked how you were doing.”   
  
“Oh did she?” Skye replied.   
  
Rath nodded. “She was really worried about you, after that night.”   
  
“It certainly was a stressful night, especially since she had no clue what was going on,” Skye nodded. “I probably should have gone to see her the next day,” she admitted.   
  
Rath nodded. “It’s not her fault she cares about you,” she added.   
  
Skye laughed, “Would be easier if she didn’t though, that way I wouldn’t feel so badly about it.”   
  
“Feelings complicate everything,” Rath agreed. “Was it awkward?”  
  
“You know,” Skye thought about it, “I thought it would be, especially considering the last time I had to take my shirt off in front of Amanda it was for much different reasons,” she said with an awkward laugh. “But honestly, it wasn’t that weird for me. All the feelings I had for her seem to have just disappeared,” she shrugged.   
  
Rath eyed her carefully and then asked, “Does she know?”   
  
“Does she know what?” Skye asked, puzzled.   
  
“That you slept with Clara,” she said simply.   
  
Skye choked on her drink. “How did you know that?”   
  
“Ha! I didn’t,” Rath cackled. “Had a feeling you did though.”   
  
“You are the worst,” Skye said, unable to contain her grin.   
  
“So how was it?” Rath pressed.   
  
Skye rolled her eyes.   
  
“That good eh?” Rath teased.   
  
“Of course it was amazing, everything she does is amazing,” Skye admitted, carefully sipping her drink this time before Rath said anything else.   
  
“When are you going to see her again?” she asked her.   
  
Skye sighed, “I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “It’s just not practical right now.”   
  
Rath leaned back in her chair, “Love is never practical, Parkin.”   
  
“Don’t I know it,” she agreed.   
  
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.   
  
“Who is it?” Skye asked, approaching the door.   
  
“It’s Andre,” came a deep voice from behind the door.   
  
“What is your favourite colour and why?” Skye asked.   
  
“Ha, the best colour in the world is purple, worn by the best quidditch team in the world, Pride of Portree,” he stated.   
  
Skye and Rath gave each other a look, rolling their eyes, “Come on in then,” Skye said, opening the door and greeting her friend.   
  
“We need to come up with some harder questions though, for the future,” Andre suggested. “My love of Portree is hardly a secret.”   
  
“Truer words have never been spoken,” Rath commented.   
  
Andre took a seat opposite the Rath and Skye, “I don’t have a lot of time so I am going to cut right to the chase,” he said firmly. “Last time we spoke, Skye, I mentioned that there are some people that Clara would not want to contact from the Circle of Khanna, can you guess who?”   
  
“Well, the only logical person would be Ismelda, they never really got along,” she answered.   
  
“Who, Murk? Yeah, I could see that,” Rath added.   
  
Andre nodded, “Absolutely, but that’s not the only person I meant.”   
  
Rath and Skye looked quickly at each other and then back at Andre. “Who?” Skye asked.   
  
“Diego Caplan,” Andre stated.   
  
“Wait, back up,” Skye said. “Diego? Like dancing master, wanted to be dueling champion, Diego Caplan?”   
  
“The one and only,” Andre said.   
  
Silence ensued.   
  
“Okay…” Skye continued, “What happened?”   
  
Andre sighed, “It didn’t happen right away. Diego was a good teammate, a good friend, that last year he helped us avenge Rowan and break the vaults, but when he left after graduation, things changed.”   
  
“Where did he go?” Rath asked.   
  
“He left for America,” Andre said. “He joined this traveling exhibition, similar those rodeos that American muggles seem to like. He wrote off and on for that first year and then he came back and everything had changed.”  
  
“How so?” Skye asked, hanging onto every word.   
  
Andre took a moment before explaining. “Well I think it’s important to understand that the thing about those traveling exhibitions is that they tend to make their money with seedy business ventures and engaging in activities that tend to lay outside of the law.”   
  
“Similar to the stuff that Jae Kim used to do?” Skye asked.   
  
Andre nodded, “To a point. But Jae knew where to stop and he didn’t involve himself in activities that could cause harm to other witches and wizards.”   
  
“So these exhibitions were what exactly?” Rath questioned him.   
  
“For a lack of a better term, I would say they were a cross between a gang and a cult,” he explained. “They had a leader, someone that spat their pure-blood rhetoric and for some reason, Diego found reason in that. He quickly became one of this leader’s favourites due to his dueling prowess and his charisma.”   
  
“I don’t even know how to react to that,” Skye admitted.   
  
Andre nodded, “You know how it is in America, there are still parts of the country that discourage fraternization with muggles, or no-majs, rather. And Diego believed it.”   
  
“But wait, wasn’t Diego muggle-born?” Skye asked.   
  
“He never really told us about his mother but his father was a muggle; my guess is he was half-blood at the most,” Andre continued. “So I think he saw this as his opportunity to reinvent himself as some pure-blood dueling champion.”   
  
“Is he famous over there?” Rath asked.   
  
“Extremely,” Andre said. “About a year ago he was back in London, showcasing his talents in front of a crowd that contained known Death Eaters. They were gleefully taking in his skill, and I wouldn’t be shocked if they had recruited him to come back.”   
  
“Were you able to speak with him?” Skye asked him.   
  
“Barely,” he admitted. “I asked him if he was staying and he avoided the question. We made plans to meet at the Leaky Cauldron that evening and he showed up with some Gringotts bloke, Peters or Peterson or something like that.”   
  
Skye spat out her drink for the second time that evening. “Peterson?” she choked out. “Blond? Snooty looking fellow? Built like a bean pole?”   
  
“The very same,” he answered. “Why? Do you know him?”   
  
“He worked with Clara at Gringotts, but more importantly, he is a Death Eater,” she stated.   
  
“Of course he is,” Andre shook his head. “So my assumption was correct.”   
  
“It seems that way,” Rath agreed.   
  
“It’s worse than I could have imagined,” Skye added. “I honestly can’t even wrap my head around the Diego I knew at Hogwarts being a Death Eater. Does everyone know how deep he went?”   
  
“The change happened so quickly that no one really knew how to interact with him anymore,” Andre continued. “Penny tried her best, but after the second time he came back, even she couldn’t find anything good to say about him.”   
  
“That’s when you know you’ve hit rock bottom,” Rath suggested.   
  
“Exactly,” Andre answered. “I really did try, too. I tried to find reason in what he was saying but everything he said fell in line with the You-Know-Who’s message.”   
  
“Do you think the leader of this… cult, could have been an exiled Death Eater?” Skye proposed.   
  
Andre cocked his head to the side, “It’s certainly possible. I honestly never thought to ask what the leader’s name was.”  
  
“That’s unfortunate, was he performing at the exhibition in London last year?”   
  
“No, he wasn’t,” Andre confessed. “Wait hold on.” Andre got up and grabbed his traveling cloak. He started digging around his pockets and finally pulled out a piece of parchment. He threw his robes back on the hook and then placed the flyer on the table. “This is the poster for their world tour from the summer of 95’”   
  
Skye took a look at it. There was a list of dates and then in the corner of the page was an unfamiliar emblem. It was a black star with a green skull in the middle of it. “Skulls? A black star? Looks like something You-Know-Who’s followers would do.”   
  
Andre nodded. “My thoughts exactly. But this makes no sense to me,” he added, pointing at the name plastered at the top.  
  
“ _Valborg_?” Skye read out loud and then looked back up at Andre who shrugged.   
  
“Odd name isn’t it?” he said.   
  
“Very odd,” Rath agreed. “Is this significant?”   
  
“It could be, and I certainly asked him about it. But he never answered the question,” Andre said, leaning back in his chair. “You know, this is about the only time in my life that I will admit that Ismelda would be helpful in this situation.”   
  
“It’s probably something Scandinavian, don’t you think?” Skye asked them.   
  
Rath and Andre stared at her. “What are you on about?”   
  
Skye blushed for a moment, “It looks like a Swedish or Norwegian word. Why would that be used for an American exhibition?” she wondered out loud.   
  
“Well, it’s official,” Andre began, turning to Rath, “we’re rubbish with History of Magic, especially American history.”   
  
“You’d think it’d be so much easier, given it only goes back about five hundred years,” Skye added with a laugh.   
  
“Well, I believe it is time for me to head off,” Andre said, getting up from his seat. “Be careful, you two. The articles they are pumping out in the Prophet lean towards you being connected to Clara, so don’t take any risks,” he advised them.   
  
Skye nodded, “Thank you for telling us all of that, about Diego.”   
  
He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I pray that none of come face to face with him. I daresay he could out duel the three of us at once,” he said.   
  
“Wait,” she said, grabbing the flyer, “do you have another copy of this to give to Penny?”   
  
Andre nodded, “I have a few of them. Do you think it will be helpful for Clara?”   
  
“Potentially,” Skye answered, “if anything this Valborg fellow could help her figure out if they are connected to You-Know-Who.”   
  
“In that case, I will try to get that to Clara right away.” He grabbed hold of the door handle and then turned, “And next time, ask me who was the reason I passed my Potions O.W.L.”   
  
“Who helped you pass?” Skye asked, though she already knew the answer.   
  
“Clara O’Connor, of course,” he answered with a wink. “See you soon,” he added and then disappeared into the night.  
  
Skye closed the door and then turned to face Rath who was trying to hide behind the poster.   
  
“How much did you tell him?” she questioned her.   
  
“Nothing more than he suspected,” Rath answered quickly, “I promise.”   
  
Skye shook her head, slipping back into the seat across the table. She spread the flyer out for them to examine it once more.   
  
“You know,” Rath said suddenly, “I always wondered what it would have been like to help Clara break the vaults.”   
  
“Oh yeah?” Skye asked her, her gaze sliding down the tour dates. _London, July 12 th. Paris, July 15th. Berlin, July 20th…_  
  
“Yeah, it seemed like a thrilling adventure, something I think I always wanted,” Rath continued.   
  
“And what about now? Are you still longing for that adventure?” Skye pressed.   
  
Rath sighed, “Absolutely not. The deeper this gets, the more I want out.”   
  
“I know what you mean,” Skye agreed.   
  
“Have you ever heard her complain?” Rath questioned her.   
  
“About the job? Never.”   
  
Rath chuckled. “Of course she hasn’t.”   
  
They looked over the flyer again, seeing if there were any clues. _August 7 th, Lisbon. August 9th, Casablanca. August 11th, Cairo…  
  
_“Do you think there’s anything in this that could help?” Rath asked after a few moments.   
  
“I’m not sure,” Skye admitted, “I just have a feeling it’s important.”   
  
“Well then,” Rath stated, getting up from her seat, “where do we go from here?”   
  
“We keep our heads down and wait,” Skye shrugged.   
  
“Works for me,” Rath said with a smile. _  
  
\---  
  
  
_


	48. The Symbol

CHAPTER 48: The Symbol _  
  
December 8th, 1997  
Snyde Manor_  
  
  
“I have something for you,” Penny said suddenly.   
  
Clara looked up and saw Penny holding out a colourful piece of parchment. “What’s this?” she asked.   
  
“It’s from Andre,” she explained. “He stopped into the shop and said that he wanted you to have it. It’s a flyer from Diego’s magical exhibition, you know the one he joined in America?”   
  
“Oh I am familiar,” Clara said begrudgingly, grabbing the flyer. “The leader is apparently quite a piece of work. Causes a frenzy every time they come across the water.”   
  
“Have you ever seen them?” Penny asked her.   
  
“Do you remember that first year after we graduated? When Gringotts sent Merula, Ben and I to Paris?”   
  
“Oh yes,” Penny remembered. “He wouldn’t stop talking about the baguettes when he got back.”   
  
“Yeah, imagine being there with him,” Clara laughed.   
  
“I’m sure Merula loved that,” Penny chucked.   
  
“Her favourite assignment of all time really,” Clara added with a smile. “But that was where we saw Diego perform for the first time.”  
  
“Must have been spectacular,” Penny commented.   
  
“It was indeed,” Clara agreed. “So why does Andre want me to have this?”   
  
“I’m not sure,” Penny admitted, “but he did say that he was with Skye and Erika yesterday and told them all about Diego and how it’s best that they stay away if they see him.”   
  
“Good plan,” she admitted. “Does he think Diego is back?”   
  
“Also wasn’t sure, but wanted me to tell you that he saw him with Peterson last fall when he was back in London.”   
  
“Hmm, that doesn’t bode well,” Clara acknowledged. She turned the poster over, “So he didn’t say why he wanted me to have this?”   
  
Penny shook her head, “No, he didn’t. But he said that Skye thought you would want to look at it.”   
  
_Of course she did,_ Clara thought and she perused the flyer, smiling to herself.   
  
“So, anything interesting?” Penny asked.   
  
“Just tour dates really,” Clara showed her. “However,” she indicated to the top corner, “that is an odd symbol. Also this name, _Valborg,_ that is interesting.”   
  
“How so?” Penny questioned her, taking a closer look.   
  
“Well, Valborg seems like a Scandanavian name, why would a cult, for a lack of a better word to describe them, use a term from Northern Europe?”   
  
“That is odd,” Penny agreed, “and the symbol?”   
  
“Both are symbols of the Dark Arts, which makes complete sense,” Clara suggested.   
  
“So gut reaction, where do you think this fits in?” Penny asked her.   
  
“They might be connected to You-Know-Who,” Clara stated. “If not directly, they are sympathetic to his cause. Otherwise why would they use a green skull and be fraternizing with Death Eaters?”   
  
“Hmm, that makes a lot of sense. Maybe you should ask Merula?” Penny recommended.   
  
Clara thought about the unspoken agreement that was currently driving a wedge between them. They hadn’t spoken since the night Merula came back with her letters and despite knowing that they had a bigger conversation coming, she wasn’t still hadn’t decided what she wanted to do about Jacob’s chest.   
  
She couldn’t figure out what was holding her back from asking Merula to bring it back to the manor. She was desperate to see what was inside it, especially if it could lead them to the reason behind Jacob’s death, but after years of wondering it would almost hurt worse if it ended up being a dead end. She knew it must be hard for Merula as well, waiting patiently for Clara to decide, and she had a feeling that’s why Merula had been avoiding her.   
  
“I don’t know. She has a lot on her mind. I don’t want to add another mystery,” she answered.   
  
“But that’s what the two of you do best,” Penny reminded her. “You solve mysteries.”   
  
Clara couldn’t help but laugh, “I suppose you’re right. I’ll see what I can find first before I ask.”   
  
Penny looked at her for a moment and Clara was suddenly wary about the next question. “Are you and Merula alright?” she asked her.   
  
“Yes,” Clara answered quickly, avoiding eye contact. “We’re just fine.”   
  
“Hmm,” Penny replied, “you both seem off.”   
  
“It’s just a stressful time,” Clara concluded.   
  
Penny gave her another look before giving in. “Fine, fine, I won’t press you. But I hope you won’t let whatever is going on fester. The last thing we need is for the two of you to be at odds.”   
  
Clara sighed, “We’ll be fine, I promise,” she assured Penny.  
  
“Alright then,” she answered, satisfied. “I am going to help Chiara with the potion downstairs. Come find us if you need us.”   
  
“Thanks, Pen,” Clara answered. Penny left the room, leaving Clara alone with by the fire, clutching Diego’s flyer. She took another glance at the cities on his world tour, wondering what it would be like to travel around the world like a regular tourist. She envied that lifestyle, though she knew deep down she would be terrible at it.   
  
She let her thoughts drift to the one time she let herself actually experience life outside of her job. It was a festival in the spring of 1996; she had been spending more and more time with the bartender at the pub near her base in Oslo and she had convinced her to take a weekend off to visit Finland for a festival called Vappu by the Finnish people, or Walpurgis Night to the English.   
  
It was an odd festival, which included the capping of a statue in the square, and was supposedly a night celebrating witchcraft and magic. Lina had informed her that many countries, both muggle and magical communities, celebrated this spring festival, though the celebrations were much different in every region. Clara had hoped to discuss these festivities with Badeea at some point, but she hadn’t a clue how to reach her then and even less of an idea now.   
  
Admittedly, Ismelda could be a great help right now, but again, they had no clue where she was. Given that she couldn’t safely go out into the world, she decided to ask the only person currently in the house that she could think of.   
  
“Hey, Barnaby?” she asked, poking her head into the bedroom he was occupying. “Do you have a minute?”   
  
“I have loads of minutes, Clara,” he shrugged, “I’m not doing anything of importance these days.”   
  
Clara walked in and sat down beside him on the bed. “Here,” she said, handing him the flyer. “Is there anything on this parchment that seems odd or makes you think of something?”   
  
He grabbed it and gave it a once over. “The symbol, there,” he said, pointing to the top corner. “That looks like a symbol from the Church of Satan,” he said simply.   
  
“Pardon me?” Clara asked, astounded.   
  
“It’s an American muggle cult,” he explained. “Ismelda taught me all about it. They worship the devil, apparently.”   
  
“So, wait. Back up. This is the symbol of a muggle cult? Why would a magical exhibition be flying under that symbol?” she asked.   
  
“I’m not too sure, but like I said, it’s not exactly the same. The black star is their symbol but this group, _Valborg,_ or whatever, combined it with a skull, which is the Dark Lord’s symbol,” he continued.   
  
“So you think they could be connected?” Clara asked, hoping to confirm her theory.   
  
“Yes, I do think so,” Barnaby said. “It would explain Diego’s behaviour.”   
  
Clara looked at him, “Barnaby, do you know something about Diego?”   
  
Barnaby looked away sheepishly, “I shouldn’t tell you this. Or maybe I should,” he rambled. “But the last time I saw Diego he told me he had killed someone.”   
  
“He killed someone?” Clara asked, terrified.   
  
Barnaby nodded. “It was about a year ago. The headmaster at Castlebruxo had been considering taking me on so they asked me to come with them on an expedition to study creatures in California. While I was staying there, Diego sought me out. All he told me was that he had taught someone a lesson and that they had to pay with blood.”   
  
“Barnaby…” Clara began.   
  
“I know, Clara. He didn’t even seem like himself,” Barnaby continued. “I know we’ve all changed in some ways, but with Diego… he just doesn’t seem like himself.”   
  
Clara considered it for a moment. “Do you think he’s being forced into doing these things?” she asked.   
  
“I hope so,” Barnaby admitted. “I still can’t believe our friend Diego would murder someone. I guess he might not be the last to do that in the end though,” he added.   
  
“What do you mean?” Clara pressed him.   
  
“Think about it, Clara,” he said. “Do you really think we are going to get through this war without hurting others?” he asked sadly.   
  
Clara’s shoulders dropped. “I hope that we can, but I know it’s not realistic,” she admitted.   
  
They sat in silence for a moment. “Have you ever killed anyone?” Barnaby asked, timidly.   
  
“Not on purpose,” she admitted. “And I still carry it with me to this day.”   
  
Barnaby gave her a sad look. “You’re a good person, Clara. I know people sometimes think I’m simple minded, but the one thing I am good at is knowing if someone is good.”   
  
“How do you figure?” Clara asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.   
  
“I work with creatures every day, Clara, and very few of them can talk,” he explained. “Actions always speak louder.”   
  
Clara thought about it for a moment, “I don’t think you’re simple minded at all, Barnaby. I think you might be the cleverest one out of all of us,” she said, patting his arm.   
  
Barnaby gave her a smile. “Thanks, Clara.”   
  
Clara got up to leave, “One last thing, where in California was Diego?”   
  
Barnaby thought about it, “I can’t remember the name of the city. I just know there was a big bridge over the bay.”   
  
Clara nodded. “That’s helpful. Thank you, Barnaby.”   
  
He beamed.   
  
\---  
  
Later that night, Clara was pouring over some books that she found in Merula’s library, covering magical communities in the western United States. There were a lot of them, some dated back to the 15th century, with the newest ones established in the 1960s. She located one that, based on Barnaby’s information, was Diego’s likely landing spot, in a city named San Francisco. There was a picture in the book that showed the bridge extending over the bay, similar to the description that Barnaby had given.   
  
“Well this still doesn’t give me much,” she said out loud.   
  
“Doesn’t give you much what?” Merula asked from the corner of the room.   
  
Clara was so startled she knocked over the stack of books on the table.   
  
“Bloody hell, Merula, you scared me,” Clara said, scrambling to pick them up. “When did you get here?”   
  
“Just now,” she said, bending over to help her. Once they had them stacked up again, she sat down across from Clara. “What are you working on?”   
  
“Andre sent a flyer back with Penny and now I’m trying to connect the dots to see if there’s any significance,” she told her.   
  
“A flyer for what exactly?” Merula pressed her.   
  
“Diego’s magical exhibition, the one he joined in America,” she explained, pulling out the flyer. “Barnaby said that this black star is a symbol from a muggle cult, but they have added a green skull which makes us think that they could be connected to You-Know-Who, or at least, they’re sympathetic to his cause.”   
  
“Can I see it?” Merula asked.   
  
“Of course, here,” she answered, pushing it over to Merula.   
  
They grew quiet as Merula looked it over. “You know, I think we probably should talk about the chest,” Clara began. “I still don’t know if it’s the right time to deal with it.”   
  
Merula looked up, “I disagree,” she answered simply.  
  
Clara furrowed her eyebrows, “It is my decision at the end of the day,” she reminded her.   
  
“Yes, it is,” Merula agreed, “and I won’t force you to do anything, I just think that you will want to look at it.”   
  
“Why are you so convinced?” she asked her.   
  
Merula pointed at the emblem in the corner. “Because this symbol is plastered on the front of it.”   
  
\---  
  



	49. Walpurgis Night

**CHAPTER 49: Walpurgis Night  
  
** _April 30 th, 1996  
Helsinki, Finland  
  
  
_“So, this is Walpurgis night,” Clara said, surveying the crowd.  
  
“What is it that you do in England?” Lina asked.  
  
“Well I guess I wouldn’t really know,” Clara answered, “given that I’m not English.”  
  
Lina rolled her eyes, “Same thing no?”  
  
“I would say be careful who you say that to,” Clara said with a laugh. They walked down to join the crowd. “So what are they doing?” she asked as they approached the statue in the middle of the square.  
  
“It is called the capping ceremony,” she explained. “For Walpurgis night, or Vappu as they say here in Finland. This statue is called _Havis Amanda_ and every year the students from the muggle schools put a cap on the head.”  
  
“That seems… odd,” Clara stated with a chuckle.  
  
“Yes, I never really understood why they do such a thing,” Lina admitted. “But it is the, umm, start of the festival.”  
  
The watched the students place the cap on the head of the statue, which according to Lina was erected in the early 20th century. It was beautifully sculpted figure of a muggle healer, though Clara thought she looked like a cross between the merpeople she had met in the Black Lake and the group of Veela she had the misfortune of running into during her first year with Gringotts.  
  
“So, should we grab a drink at the pub?” Lina asked.  
  
“Lead the way,” Clara stated. Lina grabbed her hand and directed her to the pub on the edge of the Market Square. She was happy to have the weekend off for once; Gringotts had been keeping her exceptionally busy of late. However, despite spending all this time in Northern Europe and she hadn’t seen any of except the remote forests in Norway.  
  
They settled in a corner booth and Lina headed up to the bar to order their drinks. When she returned, she was carrying two glasses of whiskey and chatting with a dark-eyed man in a well-tailored suit.  
  
“Clara, this is a friend of mine that I wanted you to meet,” Lina said, In her experience, only wizards in prominent families wore suits like that when they were trying to pass off as muggles.  
  
“Mikael Wallin,” he said, extending his hand for her to shake.  
  
She extended her own and grasped his, “Clara O’Connor,” she said. She thought felt his hand twitch when she said his name, but concluded that it must have been in her head.  
  
“What brings you to Helsinki?” he asked them, joining their table.  
  
“Clara has never seen _Vappu_ ,” Lina answered for her.  
  
“Sveden is much closer, you did not want to take her there?” he asked, sipping his own drink.  
  
“I could ask you the same, Mikael,” Lina said, tipping her glass to Mikael’s.  
  
“They celebrate Vappu in Sweden as well?” Clara asked.  
  
“Yes,” Mikael answered. “Though I have not been home very often for them. These days it is mostly just students drinking and I prefer the way the Americans celebrate.”  
  
“Oh?” Clara asked. “How do they celebrate?”  
  
“They believe that the eve of May symbolizes the fruition of the spring equinox,” he said simply.  
  
Clara shot a look over at Lina, who shrugged, causing them both to laugh. Mikael however, was not amused.  
  
“It may be too complex to understand, but there is a reason the muggles celebrate on Walpurgis night, as it is the symbolic night of magic and witchcraft,” he continued.  
  
“Is it well celebrated in America?” Clara asked.  
  
“There is a group in America that worships the magical arts and I have spent a lot of time with them,” Mikael said vaguely.  
  
Clara was about to ask the name of the group when there was a crash at the bar, eliciting a raucous cheer from the patrons.  
  
“Well, I think I should be heading out. Was a pleasure to meet you, uhh, Clara, yes?” Mikael asked.  
  
“Yes, a pleasure,” Clara said with a nod.  
  
“Det var godt å se deg, Mikael,” Lina said.  
  
“Farvel, Lina,” he nodded at her before taking his leave.  
  
“So, what do you think of my friend?” Lina asked Clara, turning back to face her.  
  
Clara thought about it for a moment. Her gut was telling her that he was not to be trusted, but she knew better not to tell Lina what she was really feeling.  
  
“He seems pleasant enough. Hard to tell, considering we just met.”  
  
“He can be very… tough,” she said, “but he is brilliant. He travels all over the world with a magical exhibition you know.”  
  
“I had an old friend that did that, or rather does that,” Clara admitted.  
  
“It is quite spectacular, no?” she asked, placing a hand on Clara’s thigh.  
  
“Indeed it is, although the group he travels with are a bit seedy,” Clara added.  
  
“Seedy?” she asked her.  
  
“Umm, not good. Possibly dangerous and do illegal things,” Clara explained.  
  
“Ah, yes. I’m afraid sometimes the people Mikael work with are the same, especially the Americans,” Lina continued. “Or so he tells me,” she added.  
  
They drank in silence for a moment, finishing their drinks almost simultaneously.  
  
“Another?” Clara asked.  
  
Lina nodded. “But let me, your Finnish is not so good,” she laughed.  
  
Clara smiled. She was right about that.  
  
When she returned she sidled up to Clara and handed her her drink.  
  
“Where does Mikael live? In America?” Clara asked, taking a sip of her whiskey.  
  
“I am not sure,” Lina answered. “I know that he still has a home in Sweden, but he is mostly in Americas.”  
  
“South America too?” Clara pressed.  
  
Lina smiled, “Why so many questions, _elskling_?”  
  
Clara tried to give her best reassuring smile, “No reason, I’m just curious about other cultures, that’s all. I haven’t really travelled, other than for work,” she added.  
  
“But your work is painting, no?” Lina asked her, her eyes narrowed slightly. “Couldn’t that take you anywhere?”  
  
Clara realized her misstep. “Yes it is, but I paint for clients mostly,” she lied. “So I go where they tell me to,” she finished, rather lamely. She wasn’t sure if Lina bought it, but Lina didn’t press her on the details.  
  
They sipped their drinks quietly and then after another moment Lina discreetly took Clara’s hand in hers under the table.  
  
“Of all the places you have been, what has been your most favourite?” Lina asked her.  
  
Without hesitation she answered, “Scotland.”  
  
“Scotland?” Lina repeated. “Why Scotland?”  
  
Thinking quickly she answered, “That’s where I went to school. At Hogwarts.”  
  
“Ah, yes. I heard about this Hogwarts,” Lina said. “I heard it is a cold castle,” she added.  
  
“Colder than Durmstrang?” Clara teased.  
  
Lina gave her a look, “Why do you think that I was at Durmstrang?”  
  
“Oh,” Clara replied, “I guess I just assumed because you are Norwegian.” She squeezed her hand, “I’m very sorry if I have offended you.”  
  
Lina relaxed, “You have done no such thing. Under Karkaroff, they don’t all muggle-borns at their school, so we have to go elsewhere.”  
  
“I didn’t know that,” Clara admitted. “  
  
“Because you are a good person who does not discriminate?” Lina suggested.  
  
Clara laughed, “So how do you know Mikael, if not from school?”  
  
Lina rolled her eyes, “All these questions about my friend, should I be jealous?” she teased.  
  
“Not at all,” she smiled back.  
  
“Very well,” she continued. “We have been friends since we were children, before we went school. Mikael is half-blood, though you should never ask him about it. He was almost kicked out of Durmstrang when they found out his mother had a relationship with a muggle man. It was quite the scandal.”  
  
“Oh, wow,” Clara answered. “I’ll remember to never ask him about it,” she added.  
  
“Mmhm, it is best that you don’t,” Lina agreed. “Do you at Hogwarts allow muggle-borns?”  
  
“Absolutely,” Clara replied. “One of my closest friends his muggle-born and he is a brilliant wizard.”  
  
“Sounds like a lovely place,” Lina said.  
  
“Not always,” Clara admitted. “There are many who wish that the muggle-borns were not allowed in.”  
  
“There are very few pure-bloods families left,” Lina shrugged. “Seems, umm, not practical to only teach them.”  
  
Clara tipped her glass to Lina’s. “Agreed.”  
  
\---  
  
 _December 9 th, 1997  
Snyde Manor_  
  
  
There was a scuffle at the door and Clara stood at the ready with her wand up. “Who is it?”  
  
“It’s me,” Merula’s voice came from the other side. “Infinite. Unbroken. Forever.”  
  
At the words, Clara let her wand arm drop and opened the door. Merula was indeed there, holding the chest she had gone to retrieve.  
  
“Come in, quick,” Clara said, ushering her in.  
  
“Where do you want it?” Merula asked.  
  
“Drawing room?” Clara suggested. “No sense hiding it.”  
  
Merula nodded and then together they carried it into the drawing room.  
  
“Bloody hell, this is heavy,” Clara commented.  
  
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Merula said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like I brought it here or anything.”  
  
Clara laughed, “Of course, of course.”  
  
They maneuvered their way into the drawing room and found Penny and Ben sitting by the fire, reading some of the history books that Clara had brought down from the library.  
  
“Merlin’s beard, what is that?” Ben asked, astounded.  
  
“A chest,” Merula offered.  
  
Ben rolled his eyes, “I made that much our on my own, thanks,” he shot back.  
  
“Is this Jacob’s chest?” Penny asked, getting up from her seat to inspect it.  
  
“The very same,” Clara said. “Merula was kind enough to grab it for me.”  
  
“Why now?” Penny asked.  
  
“Because of this,” Clara said, pointing at the symbol on the front. Just as Merula had said, there was a black star plastered on the front of the chest  
  
“Wait a minute,” Ben said suddenly.  
  
“What is it?” Penny asked.  
  
“I recognize that symbol,” he said.  
  
“From the Diego’s flyer, yes we know that,” Merula answered.  
  
“No, I’ve seen it on the inside of a pyramid,” Ben said sharply.  
  
He turned to face Clara, “Do you remember the incident in Abu Rawash?”  
  
“Yes,” she said. “You almost died.”  
  
“Yes that one. After I translated the ancient runes, remember how I was possessed briefly by that… thing?” Ben reminded them.  
  
Merula and Clara nodded, while Penny stared at Ben, her mouth agape.  
  
“You were possessed?” she asked him, her voice barely a whisper.  
  
“It’s not like it was the first time, though it was the last time I put myself in that position,” Ben reminded her. “I moved to the office after I was cleared by the healers.”  
  
“I never thought I would have to think about the ruins of Djedefre again,” Merula added.  
  
“Mmhm, nor did I,” Ben answered. “But here’s the thing, before I lost control, I saw this symbol on the wall. It looked like it had been put there recently.”  
  
“Okay wait,” Clara said. “This can’t be a coincidence, right?”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Merula agreed. “This is connected.”  
  
Clara looked at the chest. “How do we open this?”  
  
“With this,” Merula said, handing her a key.  
  
“Well. That was a lot more simple than I anticipated,” Clara joked, grabbing the key.  
  
“It was a bit anti-climatic,” Merula shrugged.  
  
Clara slipped the key into the mechanism and turned it. She heard a click and the top of the chest began to open slowly. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to see, but when it finally opened, her jaw dropped.  
  
“Oh, Jacob,” she whispered. “What did you do?”  
  
Penny dropped to her knees beside her. “Clara, what is all of this?”  
  
“I have no idea,” she answered. In front of her was a chest full of gold, jewels, ornate silverware embossed with symbols she couldn’t begin to understand. She ran her hands over the top of the treasures and then looked at Merula who was just as stunned as she was.  
  
“Did you know?” Clara asked, handing her a silver goblet with carved snakes weaving around the sides.  
  
“I had no idea,” Merula told her. “I was just as much in the dark as you were.”  
  
They four of them looked back at the fortune sitting in front of them.  
  
“What are you going to do with it?” Ben asked, examining a jeweled necklace.  
  
“I don’t even know what I’m looking at, Ben,” Clara admitted, beginning to spiral. “Is this stolen? Is it his? What claim do I even have to it? Do I even want it?”  
  
“Okay, take a deep breath, Clara,” Penny said, placing a comforting hand on her arm. “Just breathe.”  
  
Clara sat back on her heels and tried to breathe.  
  
“Look,” Merula said suddenly. “There’s a note.” She grabbed it and handed it to Clara.  
  
Clara unfurled it and saw that it was in a language she didn’t understand.  
  
 _"Och på Valborg kommer?"_ Ben attempted to read over her shoulder. "I can't make heads or tails of the rest."   
  
“Scandinavian, just as you thought,” Penny said upon seeing the note. “And Valborg is there, plain as day.”  
  
“So they must be connected,” Merula nodded in agreement. “Is it Norwegian?” she asked, turning back to Clara.  
  
Clara shook her head. “I don’t think so, but then again, I was never really good at picking them apart.”  
  
“How can we get this translated?” Penny asked.  
  
Clara thought about it. “I think I know someone that could help.”  
  
They all looked at her, “You’re not suggesting you go to Oslo, are you?” Ben asked.  
  
“That’s exactly what I am suggesting,” Clara said.  
  
“Clara, you can’t, it’s too dangerous,” Penny stated.  
  
“Do any of you have another plan?” Clara asked them. After a moment of silence got up. “Then it’s settled, I’m going to Oslo.”  
  
“Clara, why don’t I go instead?” Merula offered.  
  
“Because I know where to go,” she said simply. “I’ll leave in the morning and be back by the evening. Trust me.”  
  
Penny stood up, “Clara who are you going to see?” she asked.  
  
“It’s best that I don’t tell you,” Clara admitted. “I’ll fill you in tomorrow, I promise.”  
  
\---  
  



End file.
